That look he gave me was enough to put my train of spiraling thoughts to a sudden halt. Eyes overflowing with pity, searching my face for any hint of sadness, exposing all the despair hidden within me. That look did everything to me, completely annihilating the hopelessness planted inside my head, turning my insides upside down, making my heart demand more, stealing the air within my lungs, holding on to the breath keeping me alive.
One look was all that took him to shatter me.
But he didn't know of the power he held in his small gestures.
His brief smiles made me want more, craving for any sort of acknowledgement, torturing me with fake interest, drugging me with a sense of comfort, overdosing me with all sorts of thoughts.
I've become addicted. To his smiles. To his one-time looks. To his mischievous eyes. To his mess of a hair.
But he didn't know that.
Just the thought of him eased my pain.
He was a medicine with the deadliest side-effect.
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