On the bus.

There was a boy across the aisle from me on the bus today. He had really soft, nice eyes and widely spaced teeth. I tried not to look at him more than was considered "natural", but I couldn't help it. I heard he was in a play, a musical I think... He seemed the type. Either very caring and outgoing or acting that way. The more I looked at him, the more I thought of what it'd be like to talk to him and know him. I think if I'd kissed him, I'd have wanted to put my tongue between his two front teeth, as the gap is sizable enough to do so. He had nice pants on, brown and twilly. Green jacket with buckles across the top.

Kitty corner from me, another boy with tediously mussed hair sat slouched far down in his seat. He had his hand up on his face with his thumb on his cheekbone and his forefingers on his forehead. His eyes were closed in a strained way that looked awfully painful, but the rest of his face was just complacent. He appeared to be one of those people who sat around wishing and wishing they'd get an excruciating migraine so they'd have an excuse to be angry with the world. Whenever another passenger's phone would beep, or they'd turn to excuse themselves and bump him lightly, his eyes would pop open and label the perpetrator notedly before closing once more and shaking back and forth along with his head - utter disapproval. His jeans were very fitted and his jacket was black. A receding hairline crept across his forehead but was blunted by a flock of seagulls-esque coif that fell to his eyebrows. I hope he gets his migraine soon. For him.