You said hello once; I said hello too many times.
We laid in his bed, side by side, finally bare to what we were. Words fell into limbo, though I still engaged in playful, childish wordplay during the climax to reiterate our foundation. He observed my jovial facade; allowing it; contesting it through those beautiful blue eyes; those blues that said infinitely more than what he usually uttered through his lips. I looked at this passageway in my exploration, remembering their wetness from only minutes before. As I continued, nearing the culminating moments of the act, I revisited them once again. Wet, slightly chapped and nevertheless soft like the rest of his face. I looked at his exposed arm, the two moles on it mirroring mine, also on my left arm, also in the same spot. Only seconds away from finishing, I wondered if he also noticed our one resembling trait.
“He doesn’t even know I exist,” was my running thought every time I saw him. Every time I looked at him taking orders, standing confidently erect and flaunting every ounce of his physical beauty. This was never an intentional demonstration for he wasn’t vain despite having every reason to be; he was tall; his hair dirty blonde, wavy and soft, an imagined softness aromatized with his body's pheromones.
The great thing about you...