If eyes were to speak, I wonder what mine would say.

But then I met you, and in an instant I knew,

That if my eyes were to speak, mine would say ‘I love you’.

---

If eyes were to speak, I wonder what yours would say.

From the moment we first saw each other – finally – and mine said ‘You’re beautiful’, did yours were to speak the same?

If eyes were to speak, what would yours say when I told you how I saw you the first time?

From the moment I accidentally laid my eyes on you while you were busy to notice because you were talking to your group of friends?

From the moment I clenched my hands tightly because I could not do anything but just watch you from afar as you walk farther from me until I could not see you anymore?

From the moment I could only sigh my frustration because I saw an angel and I was not able to do anything but follow her with my useless stares.

If eyes were to speak, I just knew,

That mine would beg to say, ‘Notice me’.

---

And you did notice me, but it was not after how many more weeks that I silently took gazes at you.

I would see you walk the hallway and I could swear that time stops whenever you would somehow, by chance, look at my direction.

You would politely smile and I would curse myself because I could not smile back, because by the time that I regain control of my body again, you would be gone.

I would openly sigh because of my foolishness and I would go back to sketching my feelings out.

My feelings that were starting to grow for you.

---

“Irene.”

People would always call your name and I don’t know why I was always the first one to turn her head and search for the one who called for you.

Like your name was calling mine, too. Like it was supposed to call me, too.

And after I snapped my head to whoever it was that called you, my heart would sink a bit deeper because they already caught your attention and you were fully giving it to them.

I never had yours.

I could never have yours.

---

I was only one of your many admirers, anyway. How was I any different from them? How was I any different at all?

I saw and heard that people give you roses and letters and other things suitors give to their special someone.

I would see you courteously thank all of them and meet all of them if they asked. I would see you politely smile – like how you smile at me – and I would feel another churn in my stomach because it makes it clear that I was just the same as them, that I really was no different from all of them. That you really look at all of us just the same, not one more than the other.

But your other admirers would go as far as flocking to your classroom just to catch the smallest glimpse of you.

I didn’t, no. I did not do the same.

Why would I even bother try squeezing in when people would already block my way and my view of you?

I would just let them fall head over heels for you, let them openly show their affection for you.

Rather, I would just get my sketchpad and draw my feelings out.

Trying to make something out of the hardly drafted patterns and outlines that my heavy hand – heavy with dismay and disappointment because I could never do the same as the others – allowed to draw.

That my heavy hand crafted for you.

---

You were not one to speak a lot, you were relatively the quiet type. The shy and the proper-lady type. Then I would see you tease and have fun with your friends, and I would see your playful side which made you more attractive than you already were.

I would see you laugh with them, because they made you laugh like that. I would see you talk with them – even if you were not as talkative, but because they made you talkative – and I could just continue to watch with gritted teeth.

Why can’t I be the same?

And if my eyes were to speak at that moment, they would never have to say anything at all.

For I knew that envy was swallowing me up.

---

We would casually pass by each other – throwing casual smiles and civil nods.

But that was mostly it. We never exchanged any more than that.

I knew you, you didn’t know me.

Why would you?

I was not as known as you, I was not as eye-catching as you. I was not as beautiful as you – not even a glint of beauty as you.

I was never near how perfect you were.

So with that thought, my heart could burst by just how even small a smile played on your lips when you casually greet me.

Like I was significant enough to be greeted by you. To have been smiled at by you.

Was I deserving of that smile?

And so I immediately directed all my muscles up, and tried my best to return that angelic smile back.

---

You were my senior, three years older – higher – than me.

You would be graduating soon, I heard.

By the time that I knew, depression managed to make its way to the deepest hollows of my being.

We never had any memories shared together, not even a trade of proper ‘hello’s and ‘goodbye’s.

So why was I feeling emotional?

What I have for you was nothing but mere admiration, appreciation of a wonder above all other wonders. A sight placed superior than any of us common human beings, a mortal gifted with extra care and additional precision made.

An individual possessing exceptional beauty and splendour.

It seems God took extra time and effort to carve and make you.

Who wouldn’t be jealous of that?

And to lose such a sight – such a scene – was all too disappointing for me.

Even if we only shared formal glances, even if we only had brief moments of looking at each other’s eyes like no one else had pairs but us.

And if eyes could speak the second I knew you were almost about to leave, my eyes would be pleading you to stay.

---

It was just a few more months before you finally leave school, and a few more months for me to steal glances of you.

I could not do anything but continue to helplessly watch from a distance.

Maybe I was too scared of approaching you; you do seem cold at times.

Maybe I was too afraid of rejection; you did politely reject a number of admirers.

Maybe I was too nervous of talking to you; you did seem shy around strangers yourself.

I’m so hopeless. I could never be as courageous and as brave as the others. For all I know, someone would steal you any moment now and I would only sulk in a corner for not doing anything to prevent it.

I couldn’t bring myself to be as up-front as them for I don’t know what to say to you if ever I did.

I don’t know what to talk about, but I want to talk to you.

---

How could someone be as flawless as you are? As ideal and as perfect as you are?

You were not only beautiful outside, but also on the inside.

You were not boastful even if you have everything to brag about already. You were not as loud even if you were given such a pretty voice. You were not as mean to step on anybody’s foot even if you had the right to do so.

You were the opposite of all those.

You would rather shyly smile when given a compliment – a compliment that you deserve. You would rather speak in a softer voice if asked to yell at someone. You would rather anybody step on your foot as long as you would not hurt anybody else.

Why, just why are you too damn perfect?

Why do you keep on playing with my heart?

Worse, you don’t even know you were doing it. You unconsciously mess with my mind, all the time. You constantly, involuntarily, make me feel unusual things.

Just why are you the way you are, Irene?

---

If eyes were to speak, mine would be mute. Mine would not be able to utter a word, mine would be speechless the moment you finally greeted me with more than a nod.

“Hello.” You said.

I wasn’t expecting this, I wasn’t expecting you.

My words got tangled in my throat and I was not able to respond right away. I mentally cursed myself in irritation.

When I did not answer, you continued, “Is this seat taken?”

You pointed at my left and I finally realized why you bothered talking to me in the first place.

And my heart sank in sadness as quick as it leaped for joy moments ago, for you only asked me since the students’ lounge was already full and only the spot beside me was unoccupied.

“N-No,” I managed to stutter the least, “It’s not taken.”

You smiled, you smiled at the response – not at me – and so I lowered my head.

“Is it alright if I sit beside you?” You asked again.

It’s more than alright.

I simply nodded as my words were unable to roll off my tongue.

You nodded in response as you settled your things at the shared table we had. You sat down so elegantly, I tried my hardest not to look at you.

I scooted a tiny distance between us so you would not feel me shift from time to time. For I know I would, because you were so close to me.

From the corner of my eye, I could see you intently studying your notes.

The way you ran a finger across your chin as you think made you look too attractive. The way your eyebrows would momentarily join together in confusion made you look more than adorable. The way your eyes trail left and right as you carefully take in the words that you were reading – the way you closely study them, that I wished you’d look at me the same way – made you look more than perfect. If one could be more than perfect.

I did not know I was explicitly staring at you. I only noticed when you suddenly looked back at me, and I was not able to say anything after that.

Not a lame excuse on why I was looking at you came out of my mouth, not a word to save my neck from being caught left my lips. Not even a sound to help me out of the situation aided me.

You might have seen me blinked more than usual because then you asked me, “Can I help you with something?”

That was more than our usual nods. That was more than our civil greetings.

You spoke words to me, and I felt like a complete idiot for being too happy about it.

I felt more than a complete idiot when I could not find any words to answer you. You waited for me as I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly until I was finally able to say, “N-No.”

You slightly creased your eyebrows once again because of my vague reply, so you had the courtesy to rephrase your question for a dumb, smitten person like me, “Do you need my help with anything?”

Help me not to fall for you.

“N-No.” I simply repeated, but I was able to add, “I-I’m fine.”

Lies.

I was nowhere near fine. Having you talking to me was enough for me to lose my sanity and go crazy.

I was crazy.

Crazy for you.

Damn.

“Alright, if you say so.” You smiled as you nodded, and I swear that I was really going crazy.

Because you finally smiled at me.

---

I was trying to keep myself busy by drawing. I was trying to control myself from glancing at your direction as you silently read through your notes.

I was trying to be busy with sketching so I would not over think of the situation and make things more awkward than it already was.

But my trying was put on a full stop when I felt a soft tug on my sleeves.

You were tugging at me.

I quickly looked at you as I tried not to blush, I asked, “Y-Yes?”

“Sorry to interrupt you,” You gave an apologetic smile, “But may I ask what time is it already?”

I stared for a split second before hurriedly folding my sleeves in uneven creases as I peeked at my wristwatch, “T-Ten Thirty.”

You nodded and softly said, “Thank you.”

And my heart could melt with however way you wanted it to with those simple words. I nervously replied, “Y-You’re welcome.”

You simply smiled as an answer, and I felt the butterflies hitting my insides once more.

And the same butterflies kept on beating me when you asked for my name.

I wasn’t sure of what I heard, if I heard you right. Because why would you ask someone like me? Someone way out of your circle? Someone not worth of your attention – not even worth of setting eyes on you?

“M-My name?” I tremblingly asked.

And your lips tugged higher as a giggle escaped you as you nod.

You giggled. I made you giggle.

What was this trick you’re setting upon me?

“I’m…” I looked down as I felt like my whole face would explode if I kept on staring at you, “I’m SeulGi.”

“SeulGi,” You repeated, and I had never loved my name as much until you said it, “I’m Irene.”

I knew who you were, everyone in this school knew who you were.

“Irene.” I timidly repeated as to let you know that I acknowledged you.

“What year are you in?” You continued to smile at me.

I looked back at you, “… First.”

“Ah,” You awed like what I just said was amazing, “No wonder I don’t see you quite often.”

I burrowed my eyebrows by your answer. We saw each other almost every day, we greeted each other. Even with small nods, and prudish smiles, that counted as ‘seeing’ each other.

“… Yeah.” I mumbled. I didn’t want to disagree with you. I knew you’d find it more than weird if I told you that. You might think that I kept track of our sudden meetings and though it’s not fully false, it wasn’t fully true, either. I lost count after ten, but still, ten was more than ‘often’.

And my heart skipped mad beats when you said, “Though I see you from time to time.”

I quickly looked up at you and saw that you’re smiling widely again, you added, “I sometimes see you in the hallways.”

“I do, too.” I surprisingly answered quickly, “I-I mean, I do see you in the hallways, too.”

You only nodded, which ended the tiniest of our conversation.

I went back to drawing and I assumed you went back to studying, but I guess I assumed wrong as you opened a new topic, “What are you doing?”

I stopped my pencil from moving, small dots painting the paper as my hand unwillingly shakes. I tilted my head but I did not raise my gaze to meet yours, “D-Drawing.”

It was your turn to tilt your head to look at me properly, “Drawing what?”

I glanced at my sketch first before looking back at the ground, “B-Beautiful things.”

Slapping me would be the best thing to do right now as I could not continue a conversation you were trying hard to maintain.

I heard amusement in your tone as you asked, “You like drawing beautiful things?”

I could feel heat spreading warm and fast in my body. I fidgeted as my hands got sweaty, and I should really have just slapped myself because I wasn’t thinking when I said,

“I like drawing you.”

---

It’s such a good thing that you were used to these things that you were able to compose yourself from your split second bewilderment.

I knew that I was doomed and I already ruined the chance of at least befriending you by suddenly blurting that out, by suddenly confessing that out.

“I-I-I…” I wanted to take it back, God knows how badly I wanted to, but I was too late.

You handled the situation so carefully and ably-well that when you were able to get a grasp of it, you only smiled at me and said, “You are teasing me.”

I wish I was. I wish that my liking and fondness of you were just a pure joke, a simple ‘tease’. But I knew in my heart that it wasn’t, that what I feel for you was starting to become more than of mere fondness.

I was starting to be affectionate of you, and I was starting to wish that you would be affectionate of me.

I kept quiet after that. I might freak you out more if I speak some further.

So I just let my eyes speak for themselves – for me.

---

I was more than thankful when we passed by each other again for the second time that day. Imagine my shock when you did not only smile at my direction, but waved at me.

You threw a shy ‘hi’ at me and I could not help but awkwardly smile back and force my curled fingers up to give a wave of my own.

You smiled wider when I did and so I smiled back at the ground.

---

It was not a few days after our first real encounter did I get to see you again. My heart was racing – jumping up and down – as I caught a sight of you.

I didn’t know why I would even be that happy when there was a