Two days before our date,

I casually told him,

"Why would someone ever wear pink for me?"

Just that.

Nothing serious.

But I knew him.

I just knew

he would.

So I wore pink too.

I didn't tell him.

I wanted to see

if I was right.

And then...

the day came.

I saw him.

Pink T-shirt.

I looked down

at my pink suit.

And immediately thought—

I KNEW IT.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

He smiled and said,

"Twining, huh?"

I didn't say anything.

I just smiled.

A little shy.

A little proud.

Because somehow,

I had known.

I knew he'd wear pink.

And he actually did.

Maybe that's what happens

when you know someone really well.

You start knowing

the little things.

What they'll choose.

What they'll probably do.

Even before they do it.

And that day,

we didn't plan to match.

I just knew him well enough

to know we would.

P.S. — it’s just delulu anddddd guyssssssssssss i thing i just wrote something cringe lmao

We were just

walking around

the flower garden.

I was talking.

About random things.

As usual.

I don't even remember

what I was talking about.

He wasn't saying much.

He was just listening.

Sometimes smiling.

I liked that.

Then...

he suddenly stopped.

I looked at him.

I had no idea

what he was doing.

He picked

a tiny yellow flower.

Looked at me.

Smiled.

Then quietly

tucked it

into my hair.

I just stood there.

I think

my heart forgot

how to stay calm.

Then he looked at me

and said,

"You look pretty."

That's all.

And then

he started walking again.

Like nothing had happened.

I just smiled

and walked beside him.

This time,

I wasn't talking.

I just kept smiling

and looking down.

Every now and then,

I'd touch

that little flower.

I don't think

he'll ever know

how much

that tiny moment

meant to me.

Not because

it was a flower.

But because

he saw it...

and thought of me.

That's my favorite thing

about him.

He doesn't say much.

He listens.

He cares.

And somehow,

that's enough.

Maybe,

I'll forget

what we talked about

that day.

But I don't think

I'll ever forget

that little yellow flower.

Or the way

he smiled

before quietly saying,

"You look pretty."

P.S. — It's just delulu.

I have always loved annoying people.

Not because I wanted to hurt them.

I just found it funny when they got annoyed because of me.

I was pretty good at it too.

But then there was him.

And somehow...

he became the only person who could annoy me more than I annoyed everyone else.

And the worst part?

He knew he was doing it.

I was mad.

Or at least I wanted him to believe I was.

Because he had done it again.

He annoyed me on purpose.

So I sat there with my arms crossed, trying really hard not to smile.

Then he came back.

With pizza.

Obviously.

That's such a him thing to do.

No big apology.

No long explanation.

Just pizza and that little smile he gets when he knows I'm pretending to be angry.

I tried not to look at him.

I really did.

But he knows me too well.

I can never stay mad at him for long.

So I sighed, rolled my eyes, and took the pizza.

And yeah...

I wasn't angry anymore.

He laughed.

That annoying little laugh that basically said,

"I knew you would forgive me."

I hate that he knows me this well.

But maybe I love it too.

Because somehow, the person who annoys me the most became the person I want to share everything with.

My best friend.

The person I can talk to about anything.

The person who feels like home.

I hope he never stops annoying me.

Because I already know how it will end.

He'll come back with pizza and that stupid smile,

and I'll pretend I'm still angry...

even though I gave up the moment he walked in.

Maybe that's what forever looks like.

Little arguments.

Stupid jokes.

Sharing the last slice of pizza.

And having someone who feels like home.

P.S. — Yes, this is just delulu

he was playing guitar.

i was reading.

or at least,

that was the plan.

the book was open.

the pages kept turning.

but my attention

was somewhere else.

i knew the song.

i had heard it before.

but somehow,

it sounded different

when he played it.

maybe because

it was his voice.

or maybe

i was just biased.

probably biased.

i turned a page.

then another.

then another.

and somehow

i couldn't remember

a single thing i had read.

all i remember

is the music.

his voice.

and the strange way

an ordinary evening

started feeling special.

we'd done this before.

him playing guitar.

me pretending to read.

but today felt different.

and somewhere

between his voice

and the music,

i got completely lost.

the book was still open.

i was still turning pages.

but i wasn't reading anymore.

i was listening.

and maybe

blushing a little too.

then the song ended.

he looked at me.

and asked,

"so...

what happened in the book?"

my mind went completely blank.

i stared at him.

he stared at me.

and then he smiled.

the kind of smile

that told me

he already knew the answer.

and honestly,

that didn't help at all.

P.S. — it's just delulu.

He could never say

what he felt.

Not because

he didn't want to.

He just...

didn't know how.

So he wrote.

Every time

his heart had something to say,

it found its way

onto paper.

And somehow...

those letters

always found their way

to me.

It was just

a normal afternoon.

Nothing special.

Sunlight filled the room.

Cars kept moving outside.

People kept living

their own lives.

Then he looked at me,

smiled,

and handed me

another folded letter.

"Read it."

That was all he said.

So I did.

As I started reading,

I could already feel

his eyes on me.

He wasn't reading

the letter anymore.

He was reading me.

Every smile.

Every pause.

Every little expression.

He knows

how easily I blush.

Maybe that's why

he kept looking at me

instead of the paper.

I think

he wanted to know

what his words

were doing to my heart.

When I finished,

I slowly looked up.

And...

oh my God.

Those eyes.

I don't know

what they do to me.

I just know

I could spend

my whole life

looking into them.

I don't think

I'd ever get tired.

For a second,

I forgot the letter.

I just kept

looking at him.

And then...

I blushed.

Of course I did.

His smile

only made it worse.

I looked away.

He laughed a little.

I smiled too.

And somehow...

that tiny moment

said more

than the whole letter.

I didn't need

to ask

whether he loved me.

His eyes

had already answered.

Those letters...

they aren't

just pieces of paper.

They're little pieces

of him.

That's why

they're more special to me

than I could ever explain.

I'll keep them

for the rest of my life.

Not because

they're just letters.

But because

they carry

the part of him

he could never

say out loud.

Maybe that's why

I don't read

his letters

with just my eyes.

I read them

with my whole heart.

And if I'm being honest...

I don't want

a perfect love story.

I just want

an ordinary life

with him.

Slow mornings.

Quiet afternoons.

Late-night conversations.

Letters

I'll probably read

over and over again.

I want

to grow old

beside him.

To keep

looking into

those beautiful eyes.

To keep

blushing

every time

he smiles at me.

To keep

choosing him.

Every day.

And maybe...

that's enough.

Maybe...

that's what

home feels like.

P.S. — it's just delulu.

NOTE :-

Before you read this...

This is the 2nd part of my poem, "the way he looked at me."

The first poem is from her POV.

This one is from his.

You can read it on its own, but if you want the full story, I'd recommend reading the first part first.

Either way, I hope you

enjoy it. 💙

we were sitting in a group.

a lot of people.

a lot of noise.

someone said something funny.

everyone laughed.

i laughed too.

and without thinking,

i looked at her.

and she looked at me.

just for a second.

or maybe longer.

i don't know.

all i know is

something about that moment

followed me home.

i don't remember

the joke.

or the conversation.

or anything else, really.

but i remember her.

i remember the way

she looked at me.

and i remember smiling

like an idiot afterwards.

because there was something

about that look.

something i couldn't explain.

something that stayed.

even after everyone left.

even on the way home.

because for some reason,

i kept thinking about it.

her eyes.

god.

those eyes.

her smile.

that stupid smile.

the cute one.

the one she probably

doesn't even realize she has.

and somewhere

between thinking about her eyes

and thinking about her smile,

one stupid thought

showed up.

can she ever become mine?

and i kept wondering

if i imagined it.

or if she felt it too.

because maybe

i wasn't the only one

who couldn't stop smiling.

all i know is

i went home

thinking about her.

and for the first time,

the idea of

"me"

and

"her"

didn't feel impossible.

P.S. — it's just delulu.

we were in a group.

a lot of people.

a lot of noise.

someone said something funny.

i honestly don't remember what.

i just remember laughing.

and then looking at him.

or maybe

he looked at me first.

i don't know.

all i know is

out of everyone there,

we looked at each other.

and suddenly

the joke wasn't funny anymore.

or maybe it was.

i just wasn't paying attention.

because i noticed his eyes.

god.

those eyes.

seriously.

how is someone allowed

to have eyes like that?

for a second,

everything else disappeared.

the people.

the noise.

the conversation.

it felt like everybody else

had faded into the background.

and all i could think was—

why am i smiling?

and worse,

why is he smiling too?

i don't know how long it lasted.

a second.

maybe two.

but it was long enough

for my brain to start being annoying.

what if?

what if i'm not imagining this?

what if he feels it too?

i had looked at him before.

a hundred times, maybe.

but never like this.

never long enough

to make me wonder

if he was looking back

for the same reason.

for the first time,

"impossible"

didn't feel impossible.

and suddenly,

he

and me

felt a little closer to

we.

maybe i imagined it.

maybe i didn't.

but i still don't remember the joke.

i only remember his eyes.

and the way he looked at me.

like for one tiny moment,

out of everyone in that room,

i was the person he wanted to look at.

P.S. — it's just delulu.

we were late.

we should’ve been running.

we should’ve been in a hurry.

but we weren’t.

we were walking slowly.

too slowly for people who were “late.”

we were talking.

about things that didn’t make sense to anyone else.

things that didn’t have tension.

didn’t have logic.

didn’t have a point.

but you were listening.

really listening.

like every nonsense word was important.

the street was empty.

completely empty.

just us.

cold air moving through everything

like it belonged there.

and rain.

soft rain.

falling like it had nowhere else to be.

droplets touching skin

then disappearing

like they were never there.

but we were there.

still walking.

still talking.

still pretending time wasn’t chasing us.

and then—

our eyes met.

and everything stopped.

not slowly.

not dramatically.

just… instantly.

like someone pressed pause on the world.

we stood there.

two people frozen in the middle of nothing.

for two minutes maybe.

or maybe less.

or maybe forever.

just looking at each other.

no words.

no jokes.

no escape.

just eyes.

and something in that silence

that felt louder than any sound.

the rain kept falling.

the street stayed empty.

the world kept existing somewhere far away.

but not here.

not between us.

neither of us moved.

and somehow,

that felt like moving closer anyway.

and then it happened.

your hand found my waist

like it already knew me.

like it already belonged there.

and my hands found your neck

like they had been waiting for this moment

without even knowing.

i didn’t think.

i didn’t decide.

i just moved closer.

because suddenly

being far felt impossible.

your hair was wet from the rain.

slightly messy.

and you ran your fingers through it once

like it didn’t matter.

but it did.

god,

it did.

you looked so handsome

it almost made me forget

how to breathe properly.

then your eyes dropped to my lips.

and my heart just…

gave up.

the rain got heavier.

like it was trying to interrupt us.

like it still believed it mattered.

but it didn’t.

because then—

your lips met mine.

and the world didn’t explode.

it didn’t fade.

it just…

disappeared politely.

not empty.

just quiet.

like even my thoughts

stepped back.

when you pulled away

i was already smiling.

i tried to stop.

i failed.

you laughed.

i laughed too.

and suddenly

we were just two idiots

standing in the rain.

completely ruined.

completely happy.

completely lost.

i buried my face into your shoulder

because looking at you now

felt too intense.

too real.

and you held me closer.

closer.

closer.

like you were afraid

i might disappear.

and the rain kept falling

like it had been watching all along.

and one thought

kept repeating itself.

softly.

stupidly.

endlessly.

thank god.

it was you.

and not just another dream.

P.S. — it's just delulu.

It was raining.

Cars moved past us.

People watched.

The city kept rushing forward.

But we didn't.

We danced.

Like two children

who had forgotten the world.

The rain soaked our clothes,

our hands,

our hair,

yet neither of us cared.

Because in that moment,

nothing mattered.

Not yesterday.

Not tomorrow.

Not the worries waiting for me.

Not the fears hiding in my heart.

I wasn't living in the past.

I wasn't living in the future.

I was living in that moment.

I was living in him.

His eyes.

His smile.

God...

those eyes and that smile.

I swear,

they were enough

to make me forget everything else.

The way he looked at me.

The way he held my hand.

The way he made the whole world disappear

without even trying.

I couldn't stop looking at him.

And honestly,

I never wanted to.

I have imagined my today with him.

I have imagined my tomorrow with him.

Every morning.

Every afternoon.

Every evening.

Every night.

Whenever I dream of happiness,

he is there.

Whenever I imagine my future,

he is there.

Standing beside me.

Laughing with me.

Growing with me.

Living life with me.

He is in every dream

I have ever built.

He is in every future

my heart has ever imagined.

And maybe that's why

everything without him

feels incomplete.

I want him to be my first kiss.

My first forever memory.

The first name

my heart chooses

without hesitation.

But...

I'm scared.

Scared that this moment

might end.

Scared that these dreams

might shatter.

Scared that one day

he might walk away.

Scared that one day

he might belong to someone else.

Scared that someone

might come between us

and steal the future

I have imagined so many times.

That fear follows me everywhere.

Because I love him.

More than I know how to explain.

More than these words can hold.

He is every wish I make.Every prayer I whisper.

Every dream I dream.

Every 11:11 wish.

Always him.

Only him.

And if God gave me

just one wish,

I wouldn't ask for fame.

I wouldn't ask for riches.

I would ask for this—

Let the rain keep falling.

Let the cars keep moving.

Let the world keep watching.

But let us keep dancing.

Let me keep looking

into his eyes.

Let me keep falling in love

with his smile.

Let me keep holding his hand

like I never have to let go.

Let this moment stay.

Let this love stay.

Let him stay.

Forever.

And please...

don't let this end.

P.S. — it's just delulu.

Not the loud kind people post about.

Not perfect days or life suddenly becoming beautiful overnight.

Maybe it’s just those small moments

when your mind finally stops arguing with itself for a while.

No overthinking.

No replaying old conversations at 2 a.m.

No random heaviness sitting in your chest.

Just peace.

Maybe happiness is sitting beside someone

who doesn’t make you feel like you need to explain every part of yourself.

Someone who makes silence feel warm instead of awkward.

You’re not trying to impress them.

You’re not forcing yourself to seem okay.

You just exist there quietly,

and somehow the noise inside your head softens a little.

Nothing magical happens.

Your problems don’t disappear.

The world stays the same.

But for a second,

everything feels lighter.

Like your heart finally loosened its grip on all the things it was holding too tightly.

I think that’s why happiness is so easy to miss.

Because we keep waiting for it to arrive loudly,

when most of the time

it shows up softly

inside ordinary moments

we don’t realize matter until they’re gone.

I feel soft after breaking—

red eyes like a sky that cried first,

not loud, just honest.

pink skin, like silence learning warmth again,

like pain finally forgetting how to shout.

wet lashes still holding what I refused to say,

dripping yesterday in small, quiet drops.

I keep blinking even though it doesn’t help.

my nose flushed like a secret I couldn’t hide,

like emotion always finds a way out of skin.

and my lips—

rose-stained, trembling, almost unreal—

like they don’t know if they survived or became art.

I looked at myself for too long here.

I cried ugly…

but the mirror didn’t agree with my pain.

it called me soft.

it called me still beautiful.

I didn’t expect that part.

and I didn’t know what hurt more—

that I broke…

or that I looked like this after it.

or maybe I was just tired.