Mai Otome Fan Fiction ❯ Yearbook ❯ Chapter 10: Your Eyes ( Chapter 10 )

Your Eyes

 

By

 

Angel Della Notte

 

As I sit here in class I can hear Yukariko-sensei talking about some sort of ceremony practiced in Lutesia Romulus or was it Lutesia Remulus? I can't remember and sometimes wonder if she is the reason I'm stuck at the ranking I am now. As hard as I try I can't seem to pull my eyes from her. I'm always more focused on her then my studies. But really who wouldn't be?

 

Everything about her is perfect, her soft white skin that I long to touch, that silky blue hair and those beautiful red eyes. They are trained on the board only glancing down every so often to jot something down on her notes. Perhaps later I can ask to borrow them. She always lets me borrow her notes even though we are in the same class. Sadly, I rarely get anything out of them.

 

I spend most my time staring at the curves in her writing. It's no wonder she is number one. She is perfection, she no doubt will become famous, perhaps even a column, while I doubt I will even graduate. She is everything an Otome should be. She does everything right, never scoring anything less then a ninety-five percent and never losses a Butou. I continue staring at her totally unaware that someone has called my name.

 

She turns towards me forcing me to take a deep breath. I inhale and hold it as she mouths something and points to Yukariko-sensei. She is trying to tell me something, but I can't look away from her lips wondering what they taste like. I imagine they would be sweet with a hint of a bitter taste that blends perfectly together just like her. She always tries to act tough and never let anyone in always focused on her studies, but I know the truth she only wants those she cares about to be happy.

 

I hear my name again and for a second I thought it was her, but why would she call me by my last name? Finally I glance over to where she was pointing and see Yukariko-sensei standing there staring at me, sighing that yet again she caught me daydreaming. I pray that she won't hold me after class again.

 

If Yukariko-sensei did I would miss my walk with her. Maybe she would wait for me, but last time she did, I almost made her late to our next class. I quickly apologize for daydreaming in her class and stumble through answering the question she asked.

 

Several girls snicker under their breath, but I'm not paying attention to them, I'm still looking at her out of the corner of my eye. She shakes her head then goes back to watching Yukariko-sensei. I pick my pencil up and start writing notes, but still I can't focus on the lesson. All I can see is that disappointed look in her eyes. Still I at least make an effort to make it look like I am paying attention.

 

The rest of the class goes on with me trying to split my attention, between watching her and paying attention to the lesson; like a sign of relief, the bell rings. We all remain in our seats like good students waiting for Yukariko-sensei to finish up and give us our homework assignment, before dismissing us.

 

When she does, I stand and gather my books, putting them in my bag, until once again I hear my name called. I freeze this time, knowing it is her calling my name. I stare at the desk for a minute, then I glance up at her, staring directly into her eyes. Those beautiful eyes: from a distance, you could almost mistake them for brown or even orange, but up close her eyes are the prettiest shade of red I've ever seen.

 

Her eyes are windows into her soul, no matter what kind of mask she puts on to push people away; her eyes always tell the truth. She asks me if I am alright, to which I respond that I am. I blush as she picks up a lone book lying on the desk. It's for our next class and doesn't fit in my book bag.

 

As we walk she comments that my sleep was restless last night and that perhaps I should go to bed earlier tonight. How do I tell her that I didn't sleep much last night or any other night, because I spend most of the night watching her sleep and when I do finally sleep she haunts my dreams? That each night I dream of her, holding me in her arms, lightly feathering kisses all over me?

 

I've always been a light sleeper; I guess it was just how I was raised. Growing up like I did, there are certain habits you can never break. Each time I awake I'm alone and you still lay in your bed across the room and I realize it was just a dream.

 

I'll lie in bed trying not to cry knowing that there is nothing between us and probably never will be. I hide my tears, mostly because I don't want you to see me so weak nor do I want to wake you or our other roommate. She wouldn't understand; I wonder if you would? If you knew how I felt about you, would you embrace it or would you push me away? Fear prevents me from ever finding out.

 

I'm terrified that you wouldn't accept my feelings and would push me away. I suffer each day, because I can't have you. It's a burden I would gladly bear, if there is even the slightest chance that if you knew you would hate me and call me sick. You never talk about love or who you are interested in. Sometimes I almost find enough courage to tell you my feelings, but then I freeze and push those thoughts away. Having you, without you knowing the truth, is by far a better choice then not having you at all. I can endure it; I can endure anything for you.