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The Obsession

Part I

It irked me that no one had cleaned the floor, and if they had, they hadn’t done a very good job of it.

I preferred my floors to be clean, due to my inclination to feel the ground pushing back against my weight. It was a subtle force but present nevertheless. I sat with my legs folded underneath me, as we listened to the playwright. It was a wonderful play and sounded as such.

But my attention was not completely on the words coming out of the playwright’s mouth. They were on the girl sitting a little distance away from me. I kept peeking at her profile, not at all subtle in my examination. I couldn’t help drinking in the sight of her. If anyone believes that one can get used to another’s beauty, they’re wrong. The more I was around her; the more I desired to be, like drinking deep straight from the rim of a chilled bottle of wine.

The result was intoxicating, but not like the alcoholic inebriation that removes all inhibitions.

It was more of a…a sharpening of senses, a hyperawareness of sorts. I zoomed in on her presence, her features, and the aura she expended.

Although we were friends there was still some shyness that remained. There was nothing romantic present between us, but I had to admit how much I liked being around her.

The day had been tiresome, and I longed for nothing more than to stretch my legs and lay my head upon her lap. A few minutes were spent glancing in her direction every now and then, with the prolonged desire of her hands running through my hair. She had a gentle persona, and I knew that she’d do it without even asking. She lived close by my own house and radiated the kind of goodness we seldom witness these days.

However, as I contemplated making the move, she was already moving towards me. We were a diverse lot, in the theatre class, and had become so much more than just a class. The girl and I had conversed plenty, and found some solace in each other’s company; still, I was uncertain of exceeding my limits. I needn’t have worried about that.

She looked at me sheepishly, as she stretched out before me, and then with some hesitation placed her head on my lap. Pleasantly, surprise – though a little miffed – I lightly settled my hand above her hair and begun to pilfer through the soft layers of hair.

She had it cut short a while ago, and had looked even better with her cheekbones standing out, glimmering in the sun with a little cosmetic help.

Tell me when you get tired and I’ll change sides,” she told me. I nodded in agreement and turned my attention back to the playwright. It didn’t last too long. My attention kept diverting back to the girl with her head on my lap, her form stretched out in front of me.

Amidst stroking her golden brown hair – yet again – I took my time to study her in our close proximity. Long eyelashes fluttered and shadowed her woodsy brown eyes. The mascara she had used made them more pronounced, and I had half a mind to ask which brand she used. Mine was a little too clumpy to bring about the same effect.

During my observation, she had placed her hands on one of my knees, curling a bit on herself. She used her fingernails to create odd little shapes on it. However, she stopped far too early. A part of me wanted to urge her to continue; human contact was so rare for me, that I would do just about anything to receive it.

Disappointment and the impending sense of time rushed through me. All too soon, she would get up and leave and this would most likely not happen. Then, I heard a little whimper.

It came from her. I looked down and realized I was clenching her hair in my hands. I readily let go of it. The playwright was looking at me in trepidation, and so was the rest of the class. As soon as I let go, she got up and scooted away from me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “It was an accident, I don’t know what came over me.”

She looked a little uneasy and actually leaned away from me when I tried to reach out. Hyper aware of the looks I was getting, I muttered another apology and quickly gathered my things to leave.

On the way back, I kept berating myself for my own indiscretion.

I had to admit, the feeling of her golden brown hair, and the sound that escaped her mouth wasn’t too bad.

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