The Puzzled Puzzle

The crossword puzzle was proving not as easy as she thought. The pencil chewing and the deep frown was enough for him to know that she was in a different world. He gazed at her over his book, he liked observing her when she did not know. She was like a butterfly, always on the move and constantly busy. She liked to know things and was uncomfortable when she couldn’t understand them. She would quiz, prod, and be at it till she could make sense.

He, on the other hand, was much calmer and quiet. He was quite happy to take a step back and let things unfold themselves. He was intrigued by her need for answers. Her constant curiosity. Maybe that is what attracted him... Her childlike curiosity and eagerness which balanced perfectly with her confidence and maturity.

Where he was happy to be ignorant of many things, he realized he was always trying to understand her. As that one loose strand of hair fell on her cheek, and she subconsciously used the back of her ear to hold it he realized she was a paradox. Faithful but detached, passionate but platonic. Completely predictable in her unpredictability. Like the puzzle she had in her hand, she herself was a conundrum within herself.

He realized that he will never be able to solve this puzzle, but he was content to keep it that way.