Watching Her


Gentle Rebel


I couldn’t believe it… she is so beautiful sitting there… those coral lips, parted slightly as she breaths regularly in and out… her hair blowing in the wind that gushed through the windows as her car sped down the interstate…

She looks pissed… upset at something… but I don’t know at what. She has never really spoken her inner thoughts to me or anyone else for that matter… I just hope she isn’t pissed at me…

Suddenly, my brewing thoughts are interrupted as she reaches up to her face and pulls a rebellious lock of hair out of her mouth and away from her face… She always does that and I know how much she hates it by the deepening scowl on her face… I breathe a sigh of relief, but I continue to watch her.

I have been watching secretly out of the corner of my eye for what seems like forever… We met during rugby practice. She didn’t talk to me then nor hardly spared me a look, but in that brief second, her blue eyes beckoned to me like a siren’s call. Slowly, my persistent presence wore her down into accepting me. She still hardly ever talks to me, but she seems to permit me following her around like a puppy. Hey, I will admit it. I do, but I can’t help it. I am a sucker for dark hair and blue eyes.

She still pays me no attention, keeping her eyes on the road, but I could tell that she has sensed me trying not to stare at her. Slowly, as the moments dragged on, the side of her mouth quirks into a half smile that I consider so damn sexy and turns her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses my way…

"What?" she demands playfully. Caught off-guard by her question and her abruptness, I clear my throat as I stretch my legs to sit more upright in my seat. Once settled, I respond almost offhandedly, "Nothing. You are just absolutely beautiful," as I suddenly lose my ability to breathe and stare intensely at the desert landscape rushing by outside my window.

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