I was earnestly looking for a book and saw him sitting on the floor. His back was leaning against bookshelves, almost half asleep. The rays of the sun were caressing his face like it was meant to touch his skin. It was ephemeral. I was dazed by the visual I was seeing. He was holding a familiar novel that I like – “Two Boys Kissing” by David Levithan, coincidentally the book that I was searching. I knew right then that he was different, not the bad different but the different that I understood. We are on the same scope of different, and that made my smile.

I sneak into him and slowly, cautious not to make any noise and wake him up. I lean over him and took the book out of his palms when he fidgets. I swear I looked like a complete maniac trying to steal a book from a sleeping guy. But when he woke up and gathered his senses, he just smiled back at me and handed me the book.

“I’m sorry, are you looking for this.”

It was the first thing he told me. His eyes were tantalizing, like the newly risen sun in spring, his smiles where captivating like the first bloom of lavender on a lush field, he was stunning. For a man he was really beautiful. And with the fact that he reads, it made him look more chic. With those points, my heart did flutter and I can feel my face blushed.

I let out a small chuckle and started the conversation.

“So you’re into Levithan…”

From then on, we started as book buddies; we talk about books every time we accidentally met. I had the initiative to ask for his number. Then we started having late night conversations; sometimes he would call me and sometimes I would call him. Those calls lasted like forever and we lost track of time. We knew about each other’s interest each day. We delved into each other’s stories each minute. Then we started longing for each other’s company each second.

Soon after, he had the initiative to officially ask me out.