Gentle

She sleeps peacefully in a cool room, a fan blowing the spring air into her sun-marked face. She wakes slightly at the sounds from another room. She knows where she is, but wishes she were elsewhere, knowing the one she will never have is so near to her. Lying her head upon the pillow that smelled of him, it took all of her to keep thoughts of what could be at bay. In her heart she knows it is best to leave this one alone, to lock her heart away, but she also knows, she never feels the need to stay this safe. What is it? She should never have let slip her secret to anyone; that alone let it become real, frightening, unattainable. If she had held it, him, in her mind and in her heart, perhaps then it wouldn't matter, just a passing phase like all the others...but she knows it wouldn't have mattered. He is different; the easy way a laugh escapes not only from her lips, but from the depths of her soul, the way her skin turned into fire in that brief moment he slipped by and brushed the small of her back, the way her eyes light up while looking at him and the playful nature that arises with no pretense, this is what makes him different.