Mood:
Frustrated
Competition Entry (Attempt #1)That day was not just any other day.
"Let's end this."
So it was okay to lie on that day right?
You looked at me, one eyebrow arched. You pulled your hair behind your ears as though it could help you hear better; I almost laughed at how cute the gesture was.
"Wha- What do you mean?" Your eyebrows were almost meeting as you frowned deeply at me. Ah, that look. Irritated, impatient, annoyed. That look passes by your face more so whenever you were with me.
I continued, though my eyes stray away to the left of your troubled face. "You never seem to be having fun when you're with me. You're always angry.
And I never heard you say 'I like you.'"
Your eyes widen. Shocked, perhaps, that I was even telling you all this. Yet, you remained silent for what I said was the truth; you were always this cold, distant person whenever it came to me. Even when I confessed to you, you just blushed and stormed off. The only indication that you accepted my proposal was that you stopped calling me all sorts of degrading nicknames (you stuck to 'idiot' instead). Part of your playing-hard-to-get, I know. I never said a thing and neither did you, so we kept up this charade; you, the ice queen of a girlfriend and me, the persevering boyfriend trying to melt your exterior amour.
I cleared my throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Although I do hear you say things like 'go die' and 'idiot'," I turned my back against you and forced a chuckle. It sounded unreal to my own ears.
I closed my eyes, "I'm sorry."
I have said my share. Time for me to end this.
"It's a lie! April Fool's!" I turned and grinned at the empty space that you had stood.
Stunned, I scanned the vicinity. Your back was growing smaller as you ran from me.
"H-hey!" My feet moved. Fast and faster. Soon, I was behind you. My hand reached out and grabbed onto yours.
You turned, surprised that I caught up. I stared, surprised that you were crying.
"You.. You're crying?" I began uncertainly, hands reaching out to touch your face. You did not turn away, did not snarl at me to keep out of your 'personal space'. You reacted like you never had. You let me touch you. The dampness I felt on my fingertips insisted this.
"I-I was just joking," I said weakly as you cried. You were so strong, never dependant on anyone. How was I to know you would break from something as innocent as a joke?
___________________________________
The whole walk back home, you kept crying. You held my hand and would not let go.
You would always beat me whenever I tried to lock fingers with you. Said it was 'embarrassing' and 'too lovey-dovey' but your words were betrayed by that tell-tale blush on your cheeks. I would always laugh it off and try again later, when you felt that you had your fair share of putting up a fight. I never could understand you girls and your thinking that if you were too easy, you were undesirable.
Your hands were warm in mine. It was the longest you had ever let me hold your hand.
You were still crying non-stop but I was happy.
_____________________________________
When we reached your house, you were still crying. I was at a loss of what to do.
"S-say.." I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly, unsure of what I could possibly say to make it right. "We're here alre-"
"I like you."
I stared at her.
"I like you," she repeated, her voice but a barely audible whisper. Her eyes were scrunched up tightly, as though in excruciating pain.
It was still April Fool's day. Were you lying?
You brought your hands to your face and ran away from my frozen self. I stared at you as you dashed across the streets with your eyes closed. The blaring of the horn followed soon after.
My hand was still warm from yours. The blood on the granite was even warmer.
______________________________________
The phone rang insistently that night at your house.
“Is she- Will she be alright?” I whispered urgently into the receiver for the fourth time that night.
“Yes. Yes, yes,” your mother sobbed her mantra.
Was she lying?
_______________________________________
My footsteps on the polished floor echoed throughout the room. I-
.....
WTF 600++ WORDS OF PURE OTHER CRAPPY CRACK. THE THEME IS ROMANCE, GODDAMMIT; NOT ANGST.
... I'll start on attempt #2 this weekend.
OT: New header pic~! :D
Labels: fic, phail
Irritated
High
Sleepy
Look at that face and tell me you don't agree. Why yes Lestat, you are damn pretty.
Morose
FAIL. OTL||
Nervous
Distressed