Eye Contact: Write about 2 people seeing each other for the first time.

He was crossing the street and she was coming towards him from the other side. He’s still not sure what had caught his attention first, whether it was the peculiar angled face, the mane of auburn locks or the stack of books she was holding to her chest. Whatever it was, something drew him and he longed for her to look up. He wished it so much he slowed his pace down to give her more time, more space, until, exasperated, he inched to the left so he would be in her direct path. He did not know what came over him – this gripping desire to really see her. It was larger than him and in his deepest thoughts, he feared what would come to pass if she did not tilt her chin up. He felt foolish and he almost stepped away in the last minute but found he couldn’t. He was too close now. Too close. Three steps. His heart hammered in his chest. Two. He could see she had a slight frown. She’ll just side-step me. She won’t even notice. One step. Her gaze fell on his white tennis shoes. She looked up. A beat skipped. Her eyes, large and luminous were dark like the blackest nights. (They seemed to trap him, root him to that spot.) They glistened and were beautiful. Would have been – had they not shone with fresh tears. Everything stopped existing but those sad eyes. Time seemed to tick beyond count and ages blurred into each other. Entire cosmos collapsed and were reborn. Stars died and scattered into the void. Nothing else held any significance. Just 2 dark windows. A gaze into a moment. A heartbeat. Nothing else. Then it was broken. Lids lowered. Time resumed and life carried on. Nothing had changed. Nothing, and everything. He looked back, saw the mane of auburn hair, the slight stoop of her shoulders. Wished he could hold her in an embrace,  ease the cataclysmic rage he saw in those eyes. But he did not and he never saw her again. That moment though, he revisited often in tormented dreams of helpless frustration.