He looked at her, her hair flutting like a wild butterfly in a storm. Her skirt doing a la-marilyn-monroe and showing off just enough of her legs to set his pulse racing. Not that he hadnt seen many legs, he had, plenty of them, but something about her made him look back at her again and again. Maybe it was the geeky spectacles on her eyes, or the heavy books in her hands, or maybe as simple as the green colour on her skirt...it was something...something he couldnt figure out, but his eyes remained transfixed at her. She was innocently beautiful. Beautiful in a pure way, untouched by the big bad world. He liked the freshness on her face. It was the freshness of a early morning dew. His eyes were no more in control of him, they involuntarily stared at her. She was talking on the phone with exaggerated hand movements, and his eyes followed her every movement, his eyes traced her long smooth fingers, perfectly manicured nails, smooth soft silky skin...he felt his mouth go dry. His eyes went back to her lips, soft pink lips, perfect white teeth...ohh, that smile, he felt his breathe hitched for a moment. He didnt realise he was wetting his lips..just her sight made his mouth dry. He wondered what lies behind those layers of clothes. He felt the heat in his loins. She looked at his direction, her eyes big and expressive. Her eye lashes like waves on sand dunes. She was beautiful in a chaste and pure way. She saw him staring at her, but wasn't this a common sight? She just ignored. But he couldn't. He kept staring, long and hard...till her image was sketched in his memory. He closed his eyes, as though to confirm, he saw her even with his eyes closed. Just then, the bus came, and she bid adeiu to the bus stop. Suddenly her absence made him so restless, like she was the only thing needed for him to be alive, and right then he knew, he needed her. He needed her like his survival depended on her. He needed her like oxygen, it was difficult to breathe without her. He needed her, thats it. He needed her.
He stood right there, the next day, at the same time, just to catch a glimpse of her. Her long fingers holding the heavy books so delicately, he hair tied back in a neat ponytail, her lips slightly glossy, he wished he could touch them. While she was ignorant of his presence, his eyes scanned her body. Yes, he needed her. He felt the heat in his blood rising to his face. His trousers suddenly felt uncomfortable. He knew he had to do something, his need for her was rising. The more he stared at her, the more he wanted her. He hurried back home.
At home, he made a call, a number he called often. He barked on the phone, "Come now, right now. I want you here." The voice from the other side laughed and retorted, "You had me just last night...seems like you havn't had enough of me." He barked again, "Just do as you are told, come right now." Throwing the phone on the table, he closed his eyes and imagined her. Her long tender fingers...her slender waist...her soft lips...her green skirt...her coal black eyes. He heard the key unlock the door, the cheap perfume filling the room as she stepped infront of him. But his mind kept fantasizing the image in his mind, thinking of her and the need for her growing in him with every mili-second. He just knew one thing, he needed her.
It was midnight when he lit a cigarette and sat near the window. The cool breeze making him shiver but his mind was still encapsulated in her thoughts. She was an obsession he couldn't stop indulging in. He waited for the night to get over so he could see her again at the bus stop.