You got me hooked

He sat with me all the time, this beautiful broken boy of mine. I would love everything about him, all the way to his slightly crooked teeth and a contagious smile, his raven black hair slightly longer than it should’ve, the way he would intertwine his leg around mine while in class. I don’t believe in love, but I knew that I was close to loving him. He got me hooked, this broken boy of mine.

This broken boy, he would falter between greatness and his own deep abyss of failure. He would hug the breath out of me during those dark times, he a giant while I was his tiny teddy bear.

I loved his smell, a mixture of boyish innocence and intelligence, he smelled of fresh laundry and fresh new books. He smelled of home, of sweet little innocent kisses on Valentine’s day and cinnamon. He loved my baking, and I loved the way he ate that food, his mouth moving animatedly. That was what my broken boy of mine was about. This sweet boy was misunderstood, trodden over and overlooked yet he never stopped to smile even when he was exhausted. To me he was the bravest soul I had ever seen, the way his crooked smile would make all of my worries vanish.

Friends would tell me that he wasn’t worth it, that he just looked plain, like a normal guy. But that’s the thing: he was my plain and normal looking guy, and that was all what I needed. He was full of hope and dreams, of beautiful hazel eyes and cute freckles. My beautiful broken boy. He was full of mischief, always knew how to make me blush, a small phantom kiss on lips and I couldn’t concentrate the rest of the day. A hand around my waist holding me gently close to him, a small act of possession, the way his eyes would roam on me on our dates. I knew that he liked me and I was glad.

Because I was this close to loving him.

He was calm, even what some people might say as shy. I loved that about him, his shyness, the way he would blush while he would try to kiss me secretly behind the school building. And we would get caught by our friends over and over again, and he would take my hand and we would run to the adjacent woods, he a deep red crimson and me, just smiling. When we would come back to hang out with our friends — separately, mind you — they would not stop teasing us.

‘Oh, so we’re now graced by the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Sexy Times huh? Please don’t tell what went down there in the woods, but at least you people better use protection. ’

‘Sooo, tell me ma boy, was it good? If you say no, I swear I’ll cut your organs out man, you better say that she’s the best thing that happened to you, because she is.’

Little did these people know that we were doing our homework in the woods, he just working through his calculus book, while I furiously sketched a picture of him poring over his books in my biology notebook.

‘What you doing, your eyes are squinting like mad.’

‘Oh, just sketching an anatomy picture for bio.’

‘You mean me? I don’t think that was part of the homework… ‘

‘Oh please, let me pretend that I am doing something productive, kay? Besides, I really like your concentrating face, your eyebrows furrow into two angry caterpillars and its hilarious.’

‘Hmpf.’

And I would tear my eyes from the sketch and see him childishly pout, his lower lip jutting out and his arms crossed. And I could not stop myself, no, there was no feeling in my body, I just leaned in and kissed him because I swear I could not think.

And he would hold me, so so gently like we were both so fragile and vulnerable. And I could feel the tears streaming down his face while we kissed, I knew that he knew that I loved him. And he knew that he mattered to me, and the broken part of him vanished.

He was my beautiful broken boy, but after a while he became my reason to wake up and hope for an amazing life ahead of me. The life which I yearned came in a shape of raven hair slightly too long, green eyes and the crooked smiles while we kissed.