He said, She said.

He said, "Tell me a story."
Once upon a time...
"That's old, start differently," he said.
There was...
"That's been done, seriously?"

She turned away.
How could she stay,
When he couldn't sway?

He looked at her eyes.
He looked at her lips.
He looked at her hands.
Too red, too soft, covered in ink.
He said, "Will you tell me a story?"

She looked at her hands.

"Tell me," he said.
She shook her head,
They landed on his face, his hands, his lips and his shirt.
When he lifted his head to look at her,

He saw the paper, and on it were the words,

"Once upon a time, I tried to give him my heart."

He looked around the room,
There was his desk, his lamp, his books, his phone and on it, a picture of her smiling.