{This is a short story}

I was in love with this boy. No, actually, I am in love with this boy.

He was everything I was hoping for. I met him on the early March of 2013. I found him a little annoying at first. He couldn't shut his mouth, he kept talking all the time. I suspected that he was suffering from ADHD because he also couldn't stay still. When he sat, his legs just couldn't stop jiggling. His hands were always busy doing something, anything. He built a helicopter once by just using straws and kept telling the same jokes every hour.

Before he showed up in my life, it would never crossed my mind to love this kind of boy. He wasn't tall, he wasn't charming, he wasn't handsome. He wasn't anything I like in a guy. His jet-black hair was curly and greasy. He was small, almost resemblance of an elf. His ears were pointy, sharp. His skin was the colour of latte. His eyes were brown but never dull, instead they were always full of excitement, as if he was on drugs. It always sparkled. Sometimes, I wondered what he was thinking in his head of his.  He was maybe 5'7 or less, and I was 5'1. I mean, at least I was shorter than him. 

Yes, he was annoying. But he was also funny. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he always running his fingers trough his jet-black hair. His smile were magnificent, and he smiled all the time. He was sassy too.  He always blast a good comeback when people asked the most stupid questions. He was also passionate. He liked machines, anything that he could lay his hands on to build or fix. When he was busy building or fixing stuff, he would forget that he was human. He forgot to eat, he forget to shower, he forgot to sleep.

Even when he smelled like oil and grease, even when his clothes were tattered, and his hair were everywhere, I couldn't help to find that he was attractive that way. Super hot, if you asked me.

When he talked to the opposite gender, he couldn't stop stammering, as if he was scared that no girl will like him. But I did. I do love him.

His jokes always made me laugh. I was sad when he was sad. When he was concentrating on his machines, I couldn't stop stared at  him. His hair fell on his forehead. He was serious, focus. His forehead always crinkled, his hands were slow and steady. He was in his own world. He was, goddamn perfect.

And I was in love with him.

(This is the work of fiction and I was bored so I wrote this)

- Amni