The man is here again.
We take the same bus. How nice..
He's still wearing that trench coat, but this time with no cake box.
I wonder what he does for a living...
the wind blows and his dark hair gets ruffled and floats in the air, I never realised how much I love dark hair, though it's black, it shines the brightest in the light.
How pretty.
Ah,
I seem to have stared for too long...
Did he notice?
I kinda wish he did notice..what is wrong with me?
We've been standing here for long time already, should I strike up a conversation?
No ah, you don't normally do that, do you. I would feel awkward if anybody tried speaking to me while I waited for my bus, he probably would too.
Wouldn't he?
Ah, I really wanna talk to him.
This is weird, I'm weird. I'm so glad he can't read my mind.
The bus is here.
Already?
Time flies so fast when thinking of him...I wonder how fast it would be when talking with-
No, I have to stop this weird thought, ahhh I really wanna talk to him.
He's a seat Infront of me, I can watch him as much as want.
How nice...