He gently opened the note he was given. It was fancy, decorative notebook paper, unlike the typical notebook paper you usually find; this was different, sort of like her. He slowly sat down on the closest chair. He couldn’t understand why, but he felt his anxiety swimming through his veins. Commotion was going on all around him, but he didn’t notice; his focus was on the note and the note alone.
The first thing he noticed was the plentiful number of scratched out words. She had written in ball point pen, so it was difficult for her to fix her mistakes. It was funny, really; she had almost beautiful handwriting. Almost.
He intently read what she had written, imagining her shy, petite smile speaking those words to him. It made him chuckle; he had barely ever heard the simplest words come from that seemingly silent mouth, let alone such heartfelt words like the ones she had written.
He finished reading it with his mind empty of any serious concern or thought. The note itself took him by surprise, however the words barely touched his heart.
He folded the note back up and slipped it into his coat pocket.
Her careful and troubled yet lovely words left him unscarred.
She sat alone in her dark, gloomy room. Her delicate fingers were crossed. Her heart was out in the open.