I saw him run into his house, but it wasn't with the usual fervor I'd seen before. There was something heavy pulling him down. Something huge.
I only knew him as "that boy by the orange tree." I suppose I was only "that shy shutterbug of a girl next door." But I didn't mind.
However, I did mind how... dead he seemed. Not like he wasn't breathing and all, but there wasn't that spark in his step, that alert demeanor in his face.
Or what I could see of his face through a camera lens. A lean, intelligent face complimented by a pair of the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen. I couldn't quite make out the color from a distance, there was almost always a glare of obscurity caused by his glasses.
I've always been curious, but never adventurous. I'll wonder about something, but I won't have the guts to ask about it. But something about this was different.
The last sliver of light had slipped that day when I heard something next door.
I watched; his figure settled under the orange tree.
I tried to stand up, but I stopped myself.
Maybe he doesn't want anyone intruding, I thought to myself. Maybe I'll wait until morning.
But something possessed me to stand up and make my way towards the orange tree.