Sana
He follows me everywhere, but he doesn’t say anything. Not. A. Word. I’m not even irritated or annoyed that he’s being so stubborn, but the sick illogical part of me actually likes him being close and it’s quite obvious why. I don’t know what irritates me even more, him or fate.
He leaves me for a few hours before coming back again at the end of his class, I think. It’s the only logical explanation why he’s gone for a few hours before coming back to wait on the door of my class. He doesn’t say my name or even breathes it, and he just looks at me with that hopeful look like I’ll say something he’d want to hear, and I don’t know what to do with that.
At the end of school, he follows me to the curb of the road where Papa would be picking me up. He doesn’t even look that daunted knowi
