He had never done anything like this before. Despite previous crushes, he never felt this warm. This light. This aware. Because of this girl he hardly knew, he could see in a whole new light. It blinded him. He wanted to know. He wanted to learn everything he could about her. What  her favorite color was. What her dreams were. But where to begin, he had no idea.

He knew he would never be able to say the words he felt, but he could write. He was an art prodigy after all. That is the only reason he was granted the scholarship to this private academy for the high and mighty. That is the only reason he was able to meet her. He could never thank this school enough for all the doors that opened for him.

He stared down at the blank college-ruled paper sitting in front of him. It whispered to him. His pencil clung to his skin. Together, they begged for him to use them as tools for his success. His thoughts however, were too stuffed with emotions he has never truly experienced before. Black strings tangled around his brain: squeezing, strangling, choking him.

He breathed in the too-clean air of the school’s garden, the maze of rose bushes and leafy hedges. When he needed to either calm himself or find inspiration, he came here. Today, he hoped for both. This girl was going to be the death of him; he was sure of it. She was like a goddess that blessed his days just by existing, and he was the devoted servant.

The air swirled around him. Roses wafted up his nose and around his face. The atmosphere reminded him of the halls on valentines day. Each girl competing to see who could receive the most flowers or the most expensive gift. Each guy competing to see who could be the most romantic and creative.

He never understood the thrill of the chaos until she step into his life. The heated glares turned into soft moments of sincere love. The harsh rumors turned into whispers of passion and care.

Tuning into the serene space around him he caught soft peeping. Young birds called for their mother to return with lunch. Crickets chirped, insects buzzed, and toads croaked. Going about their lives as usual; they paid the breathing, blue boy no heed. The maze pulled at his tired mind. He let out an irritated groan. This was not what he needed to focus, and that surprised him. The maze usually helped him out of his ruts, and yet he was stumped on what words to fill the lines with. He needed to see things in a different light.

“A different light, huh?” He wondered aloud. A few images of her face flashed through his mind. His heart melted and he focused on her features.

Pictures and mental videos danced through his mind. He saw her sitting at her easel, minding her own business. She had the habit of sticking out her tongue just slightly when she focused on her projects. Her eyes would become diamonds. She would adopt a famous smile. Oh, how that smile crippled him. He noticed how her eyes almost always closed in genuine joy when she laughed at a joke her friends told her; her hand hovering over her mouth as though she were attempting to contain herself. Her posture always poised, but it was somehow relaxed and comfortable.

He remembered the day he first met her; the sweetness from her perfume drifted around him in a splendid dance. He felt creepy that he liked it so much. Days after, he could still recall the how the sharpies she was doodling with burned his nose like smoking rubber. When she accidentally flickered her hair in his face, he immediately recognized the french vanilla from her shampoo.

She once brought homemade chocolate chunk cookies to art class as an apology for being late all time. The teacher loved them. The whole class loved them. She made them without the help of her personal chef. Her cookies were perfect from the velvety-cooked dough to the warm soft chocolate to the slight crunch. Another time she offered him her last piece of gum. It was to help him focus after she noticed him struggling apparently. The flavor was watermelon. He had not liked watermelon up until that point.

His favorite moments were always when she accidently brushed past him. Her hand ghosted past his own and a whole storm of lighting shot through his bones. The softness of her fingertips startled him. He could not move for five minutes after that. Focusing on the jolts of emotion, he took no notice to the teacher calling out to him. Because the girl sat beside him during lecture time, she had to shake him slightly. His flustered state grew worse, partially because of his zoning out, but mostly because her hand lingered a hair longer than he thought she would. He could never forget that feeling.