I want to be yours

ied something heavy on his shoulders, or how he barely spoke to the movers bustling around him. Maybe it was the way his dark hair fell over his forehead, hiding

the golden hues of late afternoon melting into dusky purples, casting long shadows across the street. He looked tall-too tall for someone who couldn't be much older than s

strawberry-blonde hair refused to cooperate no matter how much she brushed it. She hated that this boy, whoever he was, had a smooth, unblemished face. His s

boy suddenly turne

uses. Her stomach twisted, a sharp jolt of panic shooting through her as she realized she'd been caught staring. Before she

bly thought she was

t if they thought she was spying on them? She could already hear her mother scolding her, reminding

ht made h

e wasn't looking at her window anymore. Instead, he was staring down at the ground, his shoulders s

d, tilting

as his

hool year. And the way he carried himself, the way he barely interacted wi

l, but insistent-w

at was still embarrassed about being

opped onto her bed, st

ybe he'd pretend he hadn't seen her spying on him, and they'd g

robably fo

didn't like the

t's what she