They were studying, their black uniforms were present. Her long hair was curving, swaying along the wind. He sat beside her and they began talking. There was complete sameness, the discourse went beautiful and meaningful. There was no one but them. It happened again.
He was conventional about the unconventional that he believes, in difference. She was breathing extreme calmness and deconstructive thinking. They grew attached. She talked to her friend while looking at him as he stood in front of the class brooding and trying to send her a message.
One of them misunderstood the message. It was almost there, but the bridge was cut.
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