Butterflies
On the park bench, the cool autumn breeze rustled her hair as she typed up her essay. Laying on a picnic blanket, only fifteen feet away, was him. The clouds mesmerized him, his eyes drooping, his hands cradling his head. His dog-eared book laid on his stomach, his mismatched socks peeking out from his trousers.
She looked up from the computer screen as a stronger gust blew leaves onto her computer, and finally noticed him. So peaceful. So beautiful. She quickly looked away. She pulled her overcoat tightly around her. A tingling began to develop in her stomach, spreading to her fingers and toes. She sighed as she closed her laptop, to take her work elsewhere.
There was a time when she would have talked to him, but now she couldn't even look at him. She could not draw near, for the butterflies would surely come.