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Training.

It's been a month since my last encounter with mystery guy. I'm starting to wonder if he actually exists, and maybe I didn't just make things up. So far, I've been training for the inter-house sports. I was selected to run (because people believe long legged people can, for some reason…absolute BS).

However, I didn't complain because I'll get to spend more time with S. I see him more, talking to the soccer team about their regimen and listening to the Volleyball's team's complaint. He's been really busy, and I love to see him working, if I'm not drifting off to space imagining if he knew I liked him.

Unfortunately, I bump into someone. The impact is so strong I land on my butt and my glasses comes half off my face. I am NOT happy about this. Can't a girl daydream in peace?

I adjust my glasses to see the perpetrator. Why does this seem so familiar. Lo and behold. It's stranger guy. And he's wearing a track shirt (which looks really good by the way).

FOCUS.

He bends down to see the damage and I stare him right in the eye with my scowl. My eyebrows have probably become a straight line with the glare I'm giving him. Under the sunlight he looks less mysterious and demeaning. I don't know how long I stare, but I make sure to make all my intentions known with my angry glare.

Is it me or does he seem a little terrified. GOOD. I want it that way. Don't mess with me sucker.

I try to get up and trip falling flat on him. My glasses shifts again and this time I'm looking straight into his dark eyes. Everything seems clearer, but I know I must be blind. Is that a smile?

Is he smiling? How dare he?!! I gather myself up quickly, adjust my glasses and smoothen my hair. I seem to be the one flustered by this situation, and we've not even said a word to each other.

He stares up at me from the ground. His back on the track his head tilted slightly to observe me. Like he didn't understand what he was seeing.

Well I understand what I see. I see a collision, a big one. One that makes my heart beat fast, and my head dizzy. And that only happens when I see him. His eyes are like black holes, sucking every living thing in existence into them.

I shake my head again and continue my run.

But why do I feel a pair of eyes pinned on the back of my jersey?