Heart

Chapter 1

Lennon

My obsession began the way all obsessions do, with a spark. A tiny, insignificant flicker that crossed my mind without conscious intention and woke something in me.

I hadn’t been myself for a while. For months, a black mood had plagued me. A constant companion I didn’t like. One that talked and chewed loudly, interrupting my dreams and commandeering my thoughts. It sank its claws into me slowly. So slowly that I didn’t feel them pierce my skin.

By the time I became aware of them, it was too late. They were in deep.

The first time I saw him, there was a drag. A slow, sluggish tug that caused friction. A scrape of a match over a rough surface. Not enough for a flame to take hold, but enough for a spark to ignite.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so memorable if I’d been in a better state of mind at the time.

Given how long I’d been in the dark, I’d grown accustomed to it.

My pupils were permanently dilated, and my retina had become sensitive to light.

When that happens, even the tiniest glimmer burns like a flare.

It made him hard to miss.

Harder to forget.

Impossible to stop thinking about.

At first, that’s all it was. A glimmer. A grainy, backlit image on my computer screen.

A face and a smile. A regular face, with a smile on it.

The face was pleasant enough. Straight nose.

Decent bone structure. Symmetrical features accompanied by somewhat insipid coloring. Pleasant, but forgettable.

The same couldn’t be said for the smile. It was a rare thing, that smile. A strange beast that reached through my screen and shook me.

A radiant beam. A captivating curve of lips.

A taunt.

A dare.

A gentle expression that called me by name.

I ignored it, of course.

Everyone knows that smiles don’t call you by name, and they sure as shit don’t reach through computer screens and shake you. What’s more, believing that a stranger’s smile can do either of those things is a sure sign of questionable mental health.

In light of that, I made a firm decision to scrub the image from my mind and forget it existed.

It was easier said than done. The more I scrubbed, the deeper the stain set in.

It wasn’t long before my waking hours were spent actively not thinking of him, and my nights were spent willing myself to forget his forgettable face.

I was almost successful. Almost able to control myself. Almost able to put him out of my mind.

His smile was my downfall.