Art of falling

e I saw him,

era

the windows, casting a warm glow over the bustling hallways. I was running late, as u

se, fate had

ooks scattering everywhere. Time seemed to slow down as I watched, helpless, as my not

. I winced, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over me. Gre

me to my feet. I looked up, expecting to see a teacher

th amusement. His hair was messy and sandy-blond, and his s

ment, ti

of the hallway fading into the background. I felt like

en, he

er again. This time, though, it wasn't just my fee

he asked, his voi

feeling dazed. "

cattered books. "Well, if you'

m, our fingers touching

the feeling that my life was about to ch

falling for the boy with the piercing blu