Write From The Perspective Of Someone Observing Their Crush From Afar, Noticing The Small Details That Make Them Ache: Watching Your Crush From Afar — And Noticing Every Little Thing

It’s ridiculous, the things I notice.

Not their smile — everyone notices that. Not their voice — though I could recognize it in a hurricane. No, it’s all the small, stupid details that get me.

Like the way they chew pens when they’re concentrating. Or how they always roll their sleeves halfway like they can’t stand fabric on their wrists. Or how they tilt their head when they’re pretending to listen, but their eyes give them away — sharp, curious, always thinking.

I watch them from across the room, pretending I’m doing something else. Pretending I’m not basically gravity-locked to their existence.

They’re reading right now. Of course they are. And they read with their whole body — brow furrowed, lip caught between their teeth, one foot bouncing lightly like their thoughts have their own rhythm. Occasionally, they tuck their hair behind their ear, only for it to fall forward again almost instantly.

I ache for that tiny, futile gesture. It’s so them — stubborn, fidgety, endearing without trying.

Sometimes they laugh softly at something on the page. Not a full laugh. Just a breathy little escape of sound that feels like it was never meant for anyone else to hear.

God, it hits me right in the chest.

I wish I were braver. I wish I could walk across the room and say something normal and charming and cool. But I know myself — I’d freeze, or ramble, or accidentally confess my undying devotion like an idiot.

So instead I watch. Quietly. Pathetically. Sweetly.

And every now and then, they glance up — just a flick of the eyes — and for a split second, I swear they’re searching for me.

But then they look away, and I pretend it didn’t mean anything.

Even though it did.Even though everything about them does.

Some people fall in love with fireworks. I fell in love with the way they adjust their glasses when they’re nervous.

And somehow, that feels even more dangerous.

B.A.R.