Sight

It's not a complicated feeling per say, just not one that can be easily explained. How something internally moves and leaves the person staggering for a split second before the apple red glow burns at their cheeks and their legs, lead by this point in time, is hurried along to get past.

Its an emotion that while some might fear is shallow is just based on a burst of feeling that can't be controlled by one's own morals. After all, many are stunning in appearance, for all different reasons—but deep down it is known that he is stunning to you for a special reason, even if that reason will one day fade and your eyes will gaze upon another.

Out of all others it is his form that your eyes catch no matter how big of a crowd. The reason for this line of sight can't be on appearance alone, there must be a spark, a sense of fate, or a something that draws you to him and no other.

Breath hitches in both hope and discord when you feel the need to look up as you move down the path, praying and hoping that it was him you are about to see, yet wishing it was not so this longing would
cease. Muscles tense, fingers clench, and blood races from the heart to the face and you just know that its happening again. You try to catch dark eyes but fail and though you are racing away from the failed chance the feet feel like iron blocks holding you down, calling you a coward for denying any chance.

Pausing a moment you turn, hoping to catch sight of him once more, and perhaps having him catching sight of you too.

There is no eyes locking, sparks flying, breath hitching.

There is no turning around, a knowing shy smile on the faces of both.

There is nothing but one seeing the other and the other feeling transparent.

Another day comes and another day goes, nothing changes in the routine of the one with the sight. With the day in and day out, wishing and hoping for something better and new to change. But the sight can't always be shared, some must deal with the painful one-sided glance. To have the heaviness of the rejection without words.

But it doesn't ever seem to stop from the eyes glancing upward hopefully, longing to be able to lock eyes and know that he returned that same line of sight.