His strands of blonde hair laid misplaced and awkwardly on his head. His forehead was wrinkled, and cheeks were blushed a bright pink. His eyebrows frowned, and right below them, his eyes were shut tightly. Tears stuck to his face, unwilling to let go. They held on like they didn’t want to fall; afraid of once they do, they will get hurt.
His eyes were closed so tightly; squeezed shut. Maybe if he shut them tight enough, everything would go away, everything would be better.
The girl looked at the boy. Observed his crinkled, wet face, and his tangled hair. She thought about the first time they meant. He seemed so perfect. His hair was combed and a bright smile was painted across his face, with deep dimples placed on each side. To her he seemed untouchable, like he was in his own perfect bubble, and she was merely an outsider looking in.
The girl left her memories and focused back to the boy. She felt sad for him. Sad that she couldn’t dry his tears, and sad that she had tears of her own. Hers were different. Instead of sticking, they ran freely down her cheeks in a thin stream. They traced her attempted, expressionless face as they glistened in the light. They landed on her sweating hands, that moved up and down the side of her leg.
The girl knew what she needed to do. No matter how long the boy had his eyes shut, the outcome would still be the same. Unlike his relentless, sticking tears, she couldn’t hold on any longer. She needed to leave his bubble, and be in her own. She needed to be free.