The boy in black watched her as if she were an animal going extinct; as if she would disappear at any given moment if left out of his sight. He watched her with his eyes wide and lips parted in amazement at her beauty as she danced, twirling and letting her brunette hair spiral around her head like an angelic halo each time she spun on her toes.

He smiled when she messed up a part of her choreography. He smiled at the way she would curse under her breath before looking around in fear to see if her parents had heard. He loved her innocence, and he swore that he loved her just as much.

He watched her in school, as well. He paid attention to the way she lightly bit the end of her pencil in thought while taking tests in one of the three periods that he had with her. He paid attention to the way she would attempt to raise her hand after the instructor would ask a question, before lowering it with flushed cheeks after her shyness had caught up with her mind.

He wished desperately that she would speak up though; for her voice was angelic and as sweet as honey. He craved to hear it.

He, of course, sat in the very back row. He wore a crisp black leather jacket, dark wash jeans, and his once chocolate brown hair was dyed jet black. He would push his earplugs into his ears and blast music even when his ears ached to block out everything and everyone. Everyone but her.

He liked how she kept her bedroom curtains open at all times except for when she went to sleep. He liked to watch her wash the thin line of black from her eyelids from his window at the house right beside hers. He liked to watch her study. He liked to watch her because he could pretend that he was actually with her and apart of her world like he so desperately wanted to be.

Not to mention when she would play her own music and dance freely instead of how her parents wanted her too. He knew that she would love nothing more than to join the schools drill team, but her shy personality kept her dance talents stuck in her own household or in some cheesy ballet competition that her mother had signed her up for.

She did have a bad side, though. A bad side that had the boy in black biting his lip for the urge to have more of her, all of her. He would stare with trembling hands as he watched her lips open in soft moans as she touched herself underneath her covers. Her eyes would remain shut and her teeth would bite softly at her full bottom lip as she climaxed, and that was when the boy in black would finish as well from watching the girl. His girl.

The girl that he loved, and the girl that he would never give up on until he had her all to himself.

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