Secreted Kisses

She was so calm and debonair compared to me. She always seemed to know exactly what to say and how to say it. She held herself with such composure that I couldn’t help, but stare in awe of her. Maybe I was even a little envious. So why was she staring at me like that? It made me uncomfortable the way she would watch me with that unwavering look of determination on her face. Such a fierce expression and yet I swore if I looked a little closer I could see something beyond that. A little crack in her armor, a spot of softness, maybe? How did she manage to make me into this bumbling, blushing fool? My heart shouldn’t be racing when I catch a glimpse of her. I shouldn’t feel disappointed when she walks by without a word or feel the joy that I do when she glances back. I shouldn’t be hoping that she’d stop and turn my way and yet I have to clasp my hands to stop from reaching out to brush her arm. I don’t understand why she pretends to not know me when she passes by, but when we’re alone she tells me that I am hers to keep. I know it’s wrong to let myself be kept as secret as the kiss she gives, but even in the dark she tastes so sweet.