He walked past me once, twice, three times over.

The sun streaked it's ugly rays across his face, still managing to make his dark, tanned skin look more angelic than ever. With pangs of sadness and butterflies, our eyes met as he walked past. The passing lasting not more than a second before we both turned away. No one noticed, as they never did. I couldn't even tell half the time whether it had really happened or whether it was just my betraying imagination. Then, he looked back. I could see what was happening. I could see the connection forming in his eyes, everything clicking together, as the machinery in his mind worked tirelessly at fitting the pieces of the puzzle into one.

He had understood.