(Part 1 )
The same routine - teaching, eating, sleeping, being alive is boring him. Sounds of his own voice and the chalk pressed against the board fill the room. Despite glasses hanging on his nose bridge still not enough to erase the blur faces of his students.
Art is his main passion and he loves it since childhood. Colourful paints on the canvas. His large hands painted with green and the small hum he made.
The thoughts of finding love passes through his mind since he can't see people's faces. The orange cat purring on his lap and small paws on the canvas. The sounds of laughter rumbling against his chest as his hands gently caress the cat.
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(Part 2)
The pressure of the same question about love. Small smile painted on his face and he pressed hands against his ears. Bubbles blowing up to the sky as stress relief.
The watercolor paint was running out. The sounds of rain outside is comforting. The scent of lavender, floral and soothing caught his attention. The girl who is the daughter of the baker. Her short blonde hair, the pearl bracelet lingering around her wrist.
The weird feelings forming in his chest... He slapped his own cheeks and quickly made his way to move to another place. Her soft voice sounds like an angel’s
That's crazy...I shouldn't feel this way. Remember Sven... you're f*cking 32 and she's 22. You're too old for her. Whatever, I need my watercolor paint. I miss my little menace at home.
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(Part 3)
The new neighbors arrived yesterday. I thought they were going to be annoying like before. Wait....*that scent again.* They seem like nice, polite, not too loud.
There was a rugbrød baked by that girl as a gift for the neighborhood. The friendly and warm gesture made it difficult to breathe. His face red like a strawberry freshly picked up from his own garden. It smells good and delicious...I wonder if it's made by love?
The unfinished sketches on the floor, his forehead pressed against the cat fur. The cat licking its own paws and meowing as if it helping him. The frustration and tears filled up his eyes.
Oh god...i want to see her face so badly. I want to know what she looks like...does she looks like an angel? It's not like I'm falling in love or something. I just want to paint someone beautiful to me. It's frustrating...I feel like I'm the only weird person here.
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(part 4)
The reflection of himself in the mirror. His siren hazel eyes look tired from crying,muscular body, large hands full of scratches, wavy dark brown hair.His own frustration of unable to be normal human. The sound of the mirror shattered by his own knuckles.
His steady voice fills the classroom, the feel like a puppet with strings moving around the room.
That girl figure with blonde hair. He heard her small giggle as she put the stray cat on her lap. Her blue eyes are like an ocean. Her smile given to him. She tilted her head slightly as her hand stayed on the cat.
Why? Did I do something wrong? Why he looking at me like that?? Oh.. the wounds on his knuckles. Is he okay?
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(part 5)
The thoughts of romance never run through my mind. It feel like childish or I'm the childish one. The need to be a perfectionist became my principle. He reminds me of a bear.. Big, seems tough...yet warm and soft.
She held the chamomile in her arms. His awkward gesture and it just like a gift for her. His smile, awkward gesture and he quickly ran away because the feelings too much.
The sight of variables flowers calming her. The softness of the mattress as she looking at the chamomile. The moon became the center of brightness in the night.
The exchange of letters became part of their lives. Her confused parents looking at their daughter, who was smiling for no reason.
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(Part 6)
3 years have passed. Leora is turning 25 years old this year. There was still awkwardness between them. They smiles and both quickly turn away. The softness of her skin made his heart jump out from his chest. He feels his face burning with unreadable feelings.
I don't know, but i had never touched a woman before... it's so weird, yet I want to be with her. Her hands are so small.. smaller than mine. A mole on her pinky finger.
The sound of fireworks suddenly deafened his ears. His focus centered on her. How beautiful she is.. no words can explain it. How much he wants to protect her, how much he wants to make her smile no matter what. Anything just for her. The music box playing romantic sounds just for her made by himself.
The years of waiting, confusion, loyalty. The matching rings wrapped around their fingers. The sounds of a baby crying in her arms, small hands, soft skin, same hair like his mama...
”Dear my universe...if you just know that my heart is beating for you... for the rest of my life.”
**The end.**