The low buzz of concentration and relaxation filled the atmosphere of the study lounge that night. As I leaned back, the floral printed sofa cushions enveloped me in, but my gaze rested on a figure seated two tables away, whose attention was absorbed in a sketchbook. The figure's familiar posture sends me back in a rush of memories. The tilted head, slightly hunched shoulders, and a nose that was so close to the paper it was most likely becoming stained with ink also. The boy didn't look up until a girl sat down across from him. He offered her a crooked grin, showing off a dimple on his right cheek. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. Want and desire slashed through my heart, longing to be able to see that smile directed at me, longing to be able to see the sketchbook filled with endless drawings, some of them being portraits of me, longing that I was with him again. The boy was you. But now it's 2 years later and I still can't help myself. I guess after all this time I'm still tied to you. *description and story idea by wafflebibbler :3