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or just about anything other than look at her. She’s not available.”
An afternoon spent at a bookstore where I’m casually browsing the shelves, appearing effortless and academic. When all the sudden, a handsome man down the aisle makes eye contact, shyly smiles, then holds up the same book that’s in my hands. Specific, but yes, I have an outfit for that too.
I want her to feel at home here because it’s her home too.
This is my version of her.
“I’m not weird. You’ve just never had someone take care of you before, so you may as well get used to it.”