It has to be him. It just has to.
The hooded figure you've been staring at shamelessly for quite some time now looks up at you, cocking his head to the side. You looked away, flushed.
Crap, he saw.
You glance at his direction once more, trying your best to be discreet. Then, like the flicker of a light bulb, and idea popped up in your head. "Waitress!" you call, quietly giggling to yourself. The waitress walked over, quite out of it. "Can I have a couple of paper napkins, please?" The waitress grunts, before rudely turning on her heels to fetch the tissues. The rudeness of the waitress was least of your concerns. You had to do this. She came back, and plopped down a couple of napkins on the table. You quickly whipped out your stick of black Kohl from your bag, uncapping it. You sigh, looking at the clean, silky piece of translucent paper .
Am I being too impulsive?
You shake your head. No. This was way better than squealing in his face and pleading for a selfie. You take the dark, pen-like stick of Kohl and scribble on the white piece of paper.
"The world is gonna change."
-RM.
