Do you know what you do to me? I guess you don't…6 min



Do you know what you do to me? I guess you don’t… but you make me wish your hands were on me…

I stood transfixed to the spot as I watched him move closer, my heart thumping fast against my chest. Why would he want to come to me, willingly? What happened to us not existing in each other’s lives? I thought I was invisible???

It felt like I stood there for years but just two minutes had passed as he made his way through the expanse of the hall. I guess I know why they call it the “Great Hall” now. It was the largest in the entire University with the capacity to hold over 8,000 lousy students at the same time. We barely filled up a quarter of it when we had our classes there, but it was always filled up anyway, enough to make me go into panic mode.

My eyes cleared from its daze as he finally stopped in front of me, huffing and puffing to get some air in his lungs. It made me raise a brow because I kind of knew it was all just a show. How could he possibly get tired from walking across the hall for two minutes to get to me? Even I didn’t get tired like that and I was lazy as fuck. He cleared his throat and shot me a pearly white smile that made my heart flutter again. What is this boy doing to me? I peered up at him from behind the big frames that sat on my face, wondering if I should talk first or let him.




Thank God. I muttered a shy response to him, ducking my head and wishing the turtleneck I wore could swallow my entire face because believe it or not, this is my crush standing right in front of me and talking to me. Saying hi and being humane. OMG! I snapped out of my thoughts and focused on him as he cleared his throat once again before talking. Did something get stuck in his throat?

“I know you know my name…”

“Yeah, everyone kinda does,” I mutter softly to myself but I guess he heard me anyway as his booming voice let out a laugh that brought a smile to my face. What can I say? He is contagious.

“Yeah, everyone does. But I’d like to introduce myself to you anyway.” Awww. “I am Gabe, short for Gabriel. Nice to meet you.” He said and stuck his hand out for me to shake. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded as I foolishly stared at his hand. He wanted me to shake him!


I am about to hold Gabe! Oh my God!!! I grabbed his hand as fast as I could before he could withdraw, startling him and drawing another laugh out of his mouth, again. It warmed me inside that I was the reason he had laughed twice within the past five minutes we had been standing together. 

His hand is warm and soft. I want to hold on and never let go.. but I can’t. My mood crashes as my mind brings to the surface the one thing I have been trying to not think about… he cannot be mine, because he isn’t mine to have. He has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together, so many times. And they’re happy. 

I’m a bitch, right? I know. I can’t bring myself to destroy another woman’s relationship because I am one too, well I’m trying to be one and I wouldn’t want the same for me. Even if they break up which I so much would love, I don’t want me to be the cause. I am so hopeless… so fucking helpless… Even with this knowledge, I still can’t bring myself to stop feeling for him. I am so fucked up… I know I am.

“This is the part where you tell me your name?” He chuckles nervously as he watched me, I shake my head to clear it of the depressing thoughts already slithering their way into my mind, wanting nothing more than to get back to my hotel already and bury myself under my sheets.

Maybe this was a mistake. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. It is crazy. Maybe I should leave? I clear my throat of the bile making its way up from my stomach, leaving behind a taste that makes me just want to vomit my intestines out. I feel sick…sick of myself… I open my mouth to say my name but someone beats me to it as they scream my forbidden name.


I groan inwardly and turn back to look at Gabe with wide eyes, his face twisted into one of surprise and amazement at the name. It’d have made me feel good to bring out so many emotions from him in one day but I had finally had enough of today. I just wanted to run away. With brows raised in a silent question, I knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. 

Now he was expecting me to explain why I was called by that name and what it means. 



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Bukola Awoyomi
Bukola Margaret, a Nigerian undergraduate and fiction writer. She has written short stories ranging from Romance to Horror over the past year as she started her journey as a writer. She is currently for https://lively.com.ng. When she's not reading stories of Cinderella and her Prince Charming, she's definitely in a faraway world cooking up stories of her own...


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