He wondered how she was so was so wise beyond her years.

She read poetry by scorned women, listen to the voices of women who have been done wrong, and fight for those who were already broken.

She wasn’t afraid of much.

She made boys feel intimidated, and men excited.

She would listen to her mother.

She would speak of the dreams she had for herself.

And make them reality.

And he, well, he had no idea what to think of her.

In fact, he didn’t think of her at all.

He would go, day by day, and gawk at whatever he found pleasing to the eye.

He would make himself bigger; take up space wherever he was at.

Made jokes whenever possible.

And always made a point to show interest in sex.

It was textbook for him.

And he didn’t even have to study.

He made others laugh, without trying.

He would listen to music, that at times did demine others, but made himself feel powerful.

She noticed him.

She always made sure to never give her attention to just anyone.

They would have make her swoon with affection.

Shown through chivalry, and respect.

She knew they weren’t dead.

Ever since she was younger; since she “wise”.

She promised herself to never be interested in someone like him.

She knew what she wanted.

Roses at her desk.

Goodnight text.

A hand to hold forever, and never let go.

But she couldn’t understand.

Why she wanted him.

He knew this.

At one point, he wanted her just as much.

But once he found out it wasn’t going to be easy.

He gave up.

He was left wondering.

And she, well, she was always left wanting more.