𝒐𝒖𝒓 [ 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ] 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 ➼ She's tired of it―she's tired of it all. Watching from behind. Sneaking peaks, never being able to say: I love you.
Having crushed on the same boy for a long time Isa has realised that it's time for a change. B...
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Maybe giving up would be best? I mean, it's not like I ever really stood a chance. This is just a crush and nothing else — I don't get why I acted like it was such a big deal? I sigh and slump onto my desk.
It's so cold.
With the thought of getting my notes ready I take my notebook out of my desk. Pushing back the cookies that I've buried deep inside. Oh. This pale pink colour; I haven't seen this notebook in a while. This is the notebook I used, like, once only and then completely forgot about.
The corners are slightly ripped. I open it, not really sure of what to expect. Did I use this for english class? Or maybe it was math?
I love him.
My eyes widen at the words. This notebook...?
The seat right next to mine, that's where he is.
How does he always manage to be so effortlessly beautiful? The crinkle of his eyes when he smiles, the soft dimples that appear whenever he's just slightly happy
Oh, why can't you be mine?
I'll never get tired of watching him. Even if it's just from behind or miraculously from his side, as long as I have him here I'll be fine
Oh.
I rip out the page, biting my lower lip. The paper corners crinkle in my hand. My notebook sits on the desk, the pale pink drawing me in. My notebook.
Alright then.
If I can't tell him how I feel then screw it I won't! But I won't let these feelings die either. I pick up my pen, open my notebook and write.
If I can't tell him how I feel then I'll just write it.
• ღ •
One. Two. Three. Boom. All the students jump into the classroom, Miss. Parker already looking like she's aged five years just from this one day. Noah on the other hand is as radiating as usual. He arrives with a bright smile, next to his friends and bids them farewell.
Quickly moving onto his seat. My knee jerks under the desk; up and down; up and down. Non-stop. My throat feels dry — like someone sandpapered it.
But despite that I try to swallow. Keep calm. Be normal. Breathe. Keep calm. Be normal. Brea—
He grabbed it! Ah! He noticed the notebook so quickly! Alright, calm down Isabella! Of course he'd notice it, you literally put it in his desk's pocket.
I stabilize my breathing, eyeing him from the side as non suspiciously as I possibly can.
Noah looks around, seemingly confused over who possibly managed to misplace their pastel notebook at his seat. I look away though before his eyes can meet mine. Mustering up the most innocent looking I-have-nothing-to-do-with-this expression.
He seems to catch the hint and looks away, reluctantly opening up the notebook. By now he should understand it's for him. I sigh out in relief, the nerves finally dying down — but nevermind.
He's opened the notebook. He has opened the notebook. He's looking at it. He's reading it. Oh. Oh. Oh. Why did I do this?! Why'd I think this was a good idea? Stupid, stupid me! What was I thinking? And—
He's smiling.
He's reading my notebook... and he's smiling.
Oh.
Maybe, this wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Please don't show this to anyone else.
This is for you only.
So, I.
Uhm...
I like you.
But I can't face you in real life so I'm using this notebook instead.
I really like you and want to talk to you but I can't.
So I hope we can talk here, in this notebook instead?
