He’s Always Watching me On Social Media

The mornings in the library were often quieter than the natural library timings. The dusty tables and chairs were all aligned in a synchronized way, a manner that projected the etiquette of the visitors. The librarians had a change of their shift as the clock struck 5 AM. A handful of people in the library were accustomed to the change, and most of them lifted their heads to bid farewell and welcome the new librarian with looks in their eyes.

I was sitting in the corner of the library, but unusually so, I did not look up the requirements today of greeting the librarian today. Instead, my gaze was stuck on the pages of the books.

I had my legs crossed and my chin resting on my right arm, which sat on my legs just as so. The book in my left hand was right in front of my face, hanging in the air, with my eyes just set to not move. Then came the notorious wind gushing over and turning the pages, distracting my focus completely. Annoyed, I murmured angrily at the wind. Then removing my head from the right hand, I used it to return to the same page. A notification struck my phone, and I got distracted again, finally pausing my reading.

I saw the time, and it was minutes past 6 AM. So I had to post to the world my whereabouts and, of course, a little motivation to wake up early and seize the day as I go onto mine.

Positioning my phone camera towards the rising sun visible from the glass window of the library, I placed my book laterally to click a picture. The aesthetic I clicked also showed my rose gold ring and its reflection in the glass. I bought it recently from a new small business account on the social media platform. Updating the story, I tagged them to appreciate the beautiful collection they had sent me. When I finally looked up, my gaze shifted to the library entrance.

A guy dressed in a black sweatshirt and sweatpants walked in. His waist had a white hand towel hanging by it. The texture showed it was freshly wet, as though he had just walked out of the gym. His athletic build was visible even from the intricate clothing of his sweatshirt. He was advancing towards me with two cups of, what I could guess, coffee in his hands.

“As attractive as always.” I thought.

He passed a smile to me as he came close to my table. He bent low and gently planted a forehead kiss. I smiled at his cuteness. He kept the coffee on the table and sat in front of me, looking at the surroundings. When his face turned back at me, my eyes were looking at the coffee; more like pretending to look at the coffee. I advanced to take a sip from it.

“Perfect as always. The right amount of ice and sugar. How do you always manage to amaze me?” I said, twirling the straw in the cup and mixing the ice.

“there’s more to it today.” He said, smirking. His pink lips stretched to hide again in the black of his sweatshirt.

I turned the cup around, and it had something written on it in pink glitter.

“Mine,” I read out loud.

I smirked at the cuteness in front of me as my breakfast. I looked at him again and saw his gaze stuck on me and my coffee in my hand.

“What?” I asked shyly.

“I’m just looking at my girlfriend. So you don’t bother.” He said in a bossy tone, taking a sip of his coffee.

I smiled, and I can guess I blushed too. “that’s a lot of confidence right there. Also, I noticed that you chose pink glitter. I don’t remember them writing with glitter ink….”

“Oh, that, I saw your story update from yesterday where you did a poll of your outfits for today while I was in the café. I could guess that you would probably choose the lilac dress with short sleeves and a pleated skirt because I voted for it. But, on the other hand, the glittery neckline was catchy for me. So, I could just hope to bring on board something that would match my look. And mind you, mademoiselle, tu es magnifique!”

I flipped my hair back to my ears and stared at him with an immovable smile.

I took the cup in my hand, with my name in view, and placed it in front of his face. He looked towards the left, and I was amazed to fall for his jawline all over again. I wrote the story upload on media by typing out “mine and mine’s.”

“I never actually thought I would let someone pay for me or just notice my details to this extent as you do. You really do amaze me every time.” I said, taking another sip of my coffee and noticing the wordings on the cup.

“The least I could do to be able to adore you properly is watch you and notice you. I find every inch of you enthralling. It is like the mystery box undiscovered for a century has somehow blessed me with its keys, and now I am to decipher whatever this box must contain. The world is following the box, but it is I who is blessed enough to uncover the mystic reality underneath. I can only hope to keep you so happy that you never feel unsafe…” his eyes stuck staring into mine, his lips quivering as these words eloped his mouth while he barely even blinked. I could feel my face turning red and warm as I heard him talk to me. It felt like he spoke to my soul and not me just.

“Say something?” he chuckles.

“I wonder what my share of good deeds that I actually got to know you and be with you was.  But, trust me, your mere presence makes me feel complete and happy. Believe me or not but tu es ma joie de vivre!” the words rolled out my mouth effortlessly. I was smiling all while I had him in front of me. The sun rays falling laterally on his face seemed to glisten and take me back every time I stared into his eyes.

“No wonder why we vibe.” He said while his face went low with a smile. Then, taking another sip from his coffee, he took my book and read its title. I saw his face twitching and then relaxing. It was hard to read his expression this way.

I nodded and then took my book back from his hands and continued reading from where I left it.

“I hope you remember we have our date in a few hours.” He says, checking the time on his watch.

“I hope you remember that your girlfriend said yes to the date, only after she is done completing her job with the contractors today. She has to shoot a video before noon and send it across. After that, she will be physically committed to her boyfriend.” So I said as I took a few more sips of my coffee. I looked outside the window, and the sun was now more visible than before, and its shades were ascending from red to bright orange with highlights of yellow.

Laughing, he stood up. He said, taking a sip from my coffee, “that did taste like mine.”

I continued reading as he walked out of the door and went ahead. I checked my phone, and there was a message from him

“I’ll pick you up sharp at 12, be ready :).”

I was smiling at his text when my phone reminders gave me an update that I had to shoot for the work. So I continued reading and, with all the punctuality, left at 9 for my appointment.

I was hoping for a healthy meal, so I made myself an avocado salad and some juice beside it. Then, I clicked a breakfast picture and sent it across my feed. To my amazement, I received 5-6 replies with breakfast pictures showing avocado salad!

It is so fun to be relatable with so many people, yet without even realizing it, we consider ourselves unique….’ I thought to myself.

I had to complete my to-do list; I advanced for a shower making it my first task. The follow-up was a distinct quick route to my work because as much as I didn’t want to show it or didn’t realize I had it, I was excited about the date. It wasn’t our first, but it always felt like the first date. Something about him made all the dates so fun and so different. His gestures made me feel so special, as if I were a queen. And if I were one, then, he would be my prince; except, of course, I was always charmed by this prince.

Fast forward to the good part, the clock had now struck 11, and my stomach was already growling. I went to my couch and lay as I awaited 12 to unite with the clock’s needles, and my day would finally happen. The doorbell rang all of a sudden, and I jumped off my couch. I busted my finger against the side table while rushing and almost yelled, “Who kept you there in the corner? Ouch, man!”

I opened the door only to find the delivery parcels kept at the door. I couldn’t help but laugh at my naivety, and just then, another thought struck my head. I thought of going and sharing this. While having this hour with me, I unboxed my package and found a leather bag with pink stripes. Its golden chain and comfy hand space were just perfect. Adjusting it on the table, I decided to paint its lookalike.

Around 30 minutes later, I was half done with my digital art of the bag. I shot it with the sun’s lightning and posted it with a message, “bumped my feet while landing this bag. Bumped my head while taking a picture of this bag; too bad at times, the excitement we show doesn’t match the outcome. But that is alright. This is life. It offers equity over equality.”

I went into my room to refresh my scent. Saw me in the mirror, and my sky blue wide-leg pants were perfectly aligned with my chirpy deep green crop top with collars. I paired it with my plain white sneakers and a white pastel handbag. I wondered if a minimal neckless would look better with my nude lip shade and the overall look until the doorbell rang.

I walked to open it and found my man standing there. He was wearing an oversized white shirt with a blue tucked t-shirt and the comfy pants that he liked carrying most of the time. I could see his bright collar bone flashing, and it just made me happy how he managed to look appealing in everything he had.

Before I could say anything, he cut me off, “you hurt yourself? How are your feet? And with all that pain, you have to go online and post wisdom? You should rather take care of yourself!” he said with a forceful yet polite tone.

I smiled and gently held his shirt to pull him inside. He wasn’t convinced by my smile, so I grabbed his face between my palms and looked at his face. He was notably taller than me, so I had to look up to look into his eyes. He held me by my waist and pulled me close to him.

“I just had a little crash. My little body was excited to open the door, thinking it would be you, so I rushed a little. I am totally fine. It wasn’t such a deal that I would want to visit a hospital….” I said and chuckled.

He nodded his face and laughed with me.

“glad you are fine, or we will have to spend more than we earn in those hospitals. And well, as always, my date looks wonderful. The green is magical. Truly.” He said as he planted a forehead kiss.

I could have practically melted there. But I continued to look into his eyes which spoke more than what he did, and oh! The depth they carried!

“if you may permit, mademoiselle, shall we proceed?” “Bien Sur, monsieur.”

We went on a walk up to the nearby open book house. That was our favorite spot for the random dates and causal dates that we planned. The plan was to read each other verses from the books the other person chose. And indubitably, we loved doing it. It was like the poems or phrases looked so much better when he read them to me. It was his voice then that made me want to crave reading more than ever.

The open book house was famous for its special show and the exquisite collection of books that it offered. It was guarded by tall trees and cherry blossoms that bloomed with every last page turned. The wind took no pause and meddled with my glossy hair, brown in the shade and reflecting my ever-liked aura. The trend of the house was to keep all the benches coloured and numbered.

The brown benches were for those who awaited their love; they had the backgrounds of lilacs around them. Blue benches set beside the lines of sunflowers were for those who had their share of love gone, signifying the much-wanted hope for moving on. The rustic red benches were for those in love. Accompanied by a bunch of roses, pink and red, and yellow together, the bench spoke of more beauty than the people in love.

“I will go get us something to drink; you go ahead and pick your book…” he said while gently flaring his fingers through my hair.

“I will come with you. Why should I leave you alone?” I said calmly.

He giggled and hit his finger like a snap on my shoulder lightly, “please go get us a bench.”

I laughed, and we departed towards our ways. I wanted to tease him, so I sat on the brown bench. I took the poetry collection of Pablo Neruda and waited for him to come.

He came with two drinks in his hands. I saw him looking for me around the red benches. He kept the drink on one of the benches and turned around to look for me once again. His hands rested on his waist, and he walked around, seeming tensed, and, as I could guess, he was relatively unable to believe his eyes.

It took him a few minutes to realize my absence, so he turned around to check other places for me. I pretended to read while he started coming towards the brown benches.

Moments later, he stood in front of me, and I failed to control my laughter. He snatched the book from my hands and looked at me with his hands on his waist.

“You are awaiting your love, huh?” he inquired.

“Practically, yes. He went to buy me drinks. Have you seen him anywhere?” I asked, turning my head left and right to pretend I was looking for someone.

“Very funny. Now let’s go…” he said, holding my hand. For some reason, I wasn’t done being playful with him.

“What do you mean to go? I will wait for my love to come to me….” I said, taking off my hands from his clutches.

“If you don’t come now, I will carry you to the red bench. Understood?”

I laughed and laughed, then slowly grabbed his arms and walked to the destined bench. “What have you brought today?” he asked me as I sat beside him, taking a sip from the drink. “it’s Pablo….” I said, handing the book to him.

“Ah! Which one do you want me to read…” he asked.

I untangled my hair and laid down on the bench with my head in his lap. He pressed his fingers through my hair strands and playfully waved across them. I looked at his face and said, “read any of those. I like to hear you read more than those poems.” “Sure…”

He turned over a few pages and finally stopped at one.

“Tonight, I can write the saddest lines….”

He glanced at me, and while his fingers now came slowly down to trace my facial bones. I watched him read once in his mind and closed my eyes after that to feel his touch on my face.

“Tonight, I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, ‘The night is starry, and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too….”

He paused.

“What happened?” I asked, opening my eyes.

“Nothing. You are just so beautiful.” He said, staring into my eyes.

“Shush. Read…”

“I think my nights and days have already started revolving around you… and it is so beautiful. I can now feel this poet and the love words that he has written. It all makes so much sense when I have you with me.

“You are so romantic. It makes me wonder if you are real or just a fictional character!” I said as I kept my hands on his arm and smiled.

“Does that mean I have earned another date with you on the weekend?” he asked notoriously. “you have that and a thousand more…” I said as I touched his face. We smiled and continued reading our turns…