I remember when I first realised I liked her. Everything she did from then on became ineffable to me, every single thing. The way she would run her fingers through her hair, that made my heart stop for just a second. The way she tapped her pinky finger on her bottom lip when she was trying to focus, that made the smile on my face linger a little longer. The way she’d subconsciously drag her nails across my thigh while in conversation, that made me have to squeeze my thighs together gently. But my favourite thing about her was looking into her eyes — it was like looking up at the night sky and witnessing a thousand shooting stars dance across the sky all at once. That was my favourite. But the worst, God, it was the worst. Was knowing just how weak she made me.