"Macbeth was written by William Shakespeare in 1601. This was around the time that King James I was the king, and there was a lot of suspicion about witches in that time." Sir's boring voice droned on and on. But it didn't bother me. It wasn't really the first priority in my mind. Not with Blake sitting next to me. The old plastic chair that he sat on seemed to insignificant, yet it held the worlds most perfect, most beautiful being in the world.

 He caught me staring intently at his perfect face, and smiled. I smiled shyly then looked away, embarrassed.

 The lesson went on for what seemed like years. It could've been, the way I was staring at Blake. He seemed not to notice my staring, but I could tell he could.

 Finally, the class ended, and I got up from my seat just as Blake did. He smiled, and wrapped his arm around me, guiding me somewhere. I knew that I should've objected, but something in me protested.

The End

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