R O L L E R C O A S T E R 

He's sitting in front of me, as per usual. It's the way that the classroom had been set up: four people at a table, two pairs facing each other and we do. It's torture almost every day, if I'm to be honest. Almost. I kind of enjoy being with him so much and seeing his face without needing an excuse. It's a relief from secretly taking peeks in our other classes.

He lets out a laugh, his eyes crinkling in that adorable way that makes me want to make him laugh more, and I stare at him in his preoccupation at someone's joke. His skin, his nose, his ears, are pale with the lack of sun recently. His lips are pink and slightly chapped, pearly whites peeking out over them as the sound of his laughter filled the air. I feel a small smile creep up on my face and, when his eyes meet mine, I grin.

Then I notice a part of his hair has gone out of place and I tell him. He blinks and holds a hand up to feel at his hair, fingers trying to find the stray strands but I reach out my own hand to fix it. I feel the softness of his hair and bury my fingers in them slightly before retreating because, if I hadn't, I would have run my hands across his scalp and intertwined myself to him.

"Thanks," he says and I smile. "Oh wait--"

He reaches out a hand toward my face and sweeps a lock of my hair behind my ear. 

"Your hair was out of place, too."

I didn't know if it was my imagination but his fingers stayed for a second longer than they should have.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."