FicWad

I watch his fingers curl artistically around the neck of his guitar, my eyes wide with admiration and love.
Hand in mine, into your icy blues..
I blush slightly when his ice blue eyes snap to my direction. His blonde hair covers his face and I want to run over and sweep it off his porcelain skin.
Can you hear me? Are you near me? Can we pretend to leave and then, we'll meet again, when both our cars collide?
I remember all the times I've said his name. It leaves a metaphorically sour aftertaste. I shouldn't like him. I should hate him for screwing my heart up. But it is something about him that I just can't forget.
Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me.
His friends jeer at me. They know I like him and that I desperately want his soft lips on mine. To feel his hand in mine would be the most amazing sensation ever. Just his name sends shivers down my spine. I hate it, the way he makes me feel. I hate and I love it. This shouldn't be fair.
And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me...
I rememeber in vivid detail our conversations. I miss talking to him, I will not deny it. I will always miss seeing him reply to my messages. The words have scarred me and I will never forget them.
I got a bulletproof heart, you got a hollow point smile..
He seemed unpenetrable. No amount of love could get through his titanium chest. People had told me he liked me, but if he did, why didn't he make a move? It was no big secret that I had liked him for over two years. I still had hope that he might might might talk to me tonight. But I knew it was hopeless, inside.
I miss you, I miss you so far....
I stand up and run to the bathroom. I know he is watching me but I feel like I'm going to vomit. I stand hunched over a sink, waves of nausea rolling off my skin. Sadly, my digested food does not come up and I sink to the floor.
"Claire! Are you okay!" My friend's voice floats from the door.
"Does it sound like it?" I retort weakly. She wraps her arms around me and I fall into them tiredly. We begin to make our way out. The hushed chatter of the other pupils in the hall rings in my ears and usually I cannot make out what they are saying. But one name is painfully obvious to me.
"Alex."