I wonder if he ever thought it would lead to this.

I am standing here, looking him straight in the eyes. They are the color of a muddy river, and some may consider them to be ugly and boring. Not me. I can’t imagine seeing them any other way. Those eyes are gazing at me, with a look of wonder and surprise. Really, I should be the surprised one. He called me here, after all. Seconds tick by, silent and meaningful glimpses of peace.

“Aren’t you going to say anything? Or are you going to just leave me hanging?” A visage of hurt flashes past his features, but a second later it’s gone.

“But this…this is impossible.” I can’t wrap my head around his words. It is like they are in another language, but one so similar it seems as though I could understand.

“You know, you don’t have to embarrass me like this,” he snaps. Is there anger in his voice? Why?

“Embarrass you? How am I embarrassing you?” My voice is a blank sheet of paper, and he is the pen, the author of the story.

“You obviously don’t care the way I do, so can’t you just let me be?” Don’t care? He thinks I don’t care? Why does that bother him?

My face is one of confusion. I say, “But…that doesn’t make any sense. Why do you care if I care?”

“Because I love you, alright? Are you happy now that I said it? Happy that I’ve made a complete fool out of myself?” Love…me? This can’t be what I heard. He’s got to be joking.

“I believe you’re the one making a fool out of me!” I exclaim. Now his visage is an undone puzzle, studying me.

“Oh? And how am I doing that?”

“Because you’re toying with me! I’m not bulletproof, alright? I can only take so many jokes, so much teasing before I break. And right now, you’re breaking me.” I turn away from him, angrily wiping my wet eyelids.

“Toying with you?” There is an emotion I can’t quite place in his voice. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“What else would you be doing? It’s impossible for someone like you to love someone like me. Impossible!” My voice wavers on the last word, and I hate myself for it.

“You think I’m joking that I love you.” It’s not a question. He glares at me, almost…tenderly. He steps closer to me.

“Why else would you say it?” I whisper. Before I can say anything else, his mouth is on mine with the lightest touch, like feathers tickling my skin. My body freezes, and shivers roll up and down my spine. This can’t happen. I pull away, more upset than before.

“What’s it going to take to make you see that I mean it? I love you. I love the way you hold back what you really want to say, even though it annoys me sometimes. I love the way you are determined to succeed, the way you never, ever give up. I love the curl of your hair, the color of your eyes, the shape of your smile. I love the way you dream about your future. I love your laugh and every corny joke you crack. Don’t you get it? I love you.” My lower lip trembles. Tears, unexpectedly, spill over out of my eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“Because,” I say. “I love you too. And you loving me back, it’s impossible.” And at that, a slow smile appears on his mouth. He kisses me again, a little deeper than before. He pulls back and whispers into my ear.

“But you undo the impossible.”