I never knew that our eyes can hold so much until I saw his. There he was, at the fire exit, crying so silently I thought I misheard him. I was on my way to the library, thinking of using my not-so-secret shortcut when I saw him there. I’m not the proper person to approach another when crying but his despair was so loud, I’m afraid to just leave him be.

I walked my way toward him and asked, “Hi, are you okay?”

He looked at me through his tears and right then I knew, he is special. I wasn’t sure if it was the tears’ doing or it’s just how it is; his eyes were the shiniest I’ve seen, b with purity and gleam. He then looked at the side, avoiding my gaze while wiping his tears.

“Sorry to bother you. I heard you and thought that I should ask if you’re okay even though the answer pretty seems obvious?”

He tried to give me a small smile but I noticed he was having a hard time breathing so I held out my hand, offering to get out of the stuffy hallway so that he can get some fresh air.

He stared at my hand as if I was an alien asking him to come with him and I suddenly wonder how those stellar orbs of him sees me, or the world. 

“A breath of fresh air can help, I promise.” And with that, he grabbed my hand that is as soft as his cries earlier. 

Upon holding out the door, the wind caressed us ever so dearly. I looked at him and motioned to breathe in and out properly. With eyes closed, he did, while holding unto my hand like a lifeline. I respired with him until I saw his tensed shoulders go loose. By the time he managed his breathing, he caught me staring. I did my best to assure him with my smile yet I can’t help but be captivated by his eyes. I tried to capture every possible detail I can save in memory. They are as black as a doe’s but with a hint of brown surrounding it: an oasis. It’s as if the darkness is the life out of me but I’m not drowning, no, I am alive and glowing.

The first thing he did was laugh. It wasn’t fake, but it was a mixture of relief, shame and a pint of nervousness. 

“Sorry about that. I’m pretty sure it’s rare to encounter someone crying at the end of the hallway. But thank you.” 

His voice is as gentle as his features; alluring as his eyes, enchanting as his purity and lovely as his existence. I am irrevocably charmed by this man but thank the gods I still have my tongue intact.

“Are you okay now? Is there anything you need?”

“Yes, thank you. I am fine now.” 

“That is good to hear.”

I gave a smile back. He continuously wiped his hands on his pants and I can’t help but follow it with my sight. I am not sure if he’s the type who can’t stand silence or he just wanted to reiterate, 

“Again, thank you. Really.”

“You’re welcome… but if you want to let it all out, I’m a pretty good listener. Or at least, I think?”

There’s something about him tha