Walking, walking, walking…wall.
Not a literal wall, just a person.
Not just a person, a girl.
Black hair on a round head, going just past her shoulders and straight down her back.
A blue shirt with blue jeans. A soft blue for the shirt, like a sky right after it storms, the kind of blue you think of when you think of baby blue, when you think of the lightest blue you can get right before it fades into white.
Blue jeans just..blue jeans.
Why does the boy remember her appearance? The length of her hair? The color of her shirt? The soft blue that still comes to mind every time someone asks him his favorite color?
Who can say why people can recall certain scenes so well and others just fade in time. For this boy, this shirt, this girl, this wall, all stick in his memory, like a first crush, a first kiss, a first love, all rolled into one.
Did he know then she would make him forget all those firsts, replace all of them in his memory with thoughts of her lips, the scent of her neck, the weight of her body laying next to his?
That’s why it’s called love at first sight, idiots.