Mental Note #1 (lust?)

Have you ever seen someone in the halls and thought in awe: "He's gorgeous." Not sexually (okay maybe just a little), but simply beautiful. Almost angelic. You try not to stare as you see him with his girlfriend. It's fascination. I think. Everyday. It's not a crush, it's observing a piece of classical Greek artwork. Tracing the curves of his mischievous marble eyes. Absorbing his presence with a bestial appetite. Drinking in his beauty, becoming sensually drunk to the point that time seems to stop for you and everything turns to shades of gray, the only color emanating from him. Standing out. he laughs at some joke, you lean forward watching his neck. So delicate like a swan. Your fingers tingle with the need to feel it beneath your skin. Pondering what the taste of his lips, and how the sensation of his tongue searching over your body would feel like. You try to steady your labored breathing and the blood pounding in your head. (Is this lust?) All thoughts are superimposed with his image.

Suddenly he's in your class, two seats behind you.

You fear he's wondering why that guy two seats ahead of him doesn't answer the teacher right away.

And then you wonder if anyone knows your secret. It kills you, the anxiety of hiding. You catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. Looks like you'll have to wait for the next exhibition. Oh, well. Fantasy is better than the real thing anyway.