Quixotic – An adjective, to be romantically unrealistic with impractical goals. Which describes our depressed little fuzzy elf right here in this ficlet.

I'm baack, bitches. Hopefully I will write more and get the creative juices running…. Not at 3 in the morning again, hopefully.

Please read and review! You can flame me to the oblivion. I do not own the characters or X-Men: Evolution.

I guess I'll just sit here and die then.

Okay, not exactly die, strictly speaking. But maybe I'm already dead inside.

All I ever wanted was you to love me, that's all. Is it really that hard for you, Kitty? I've tried to forget about you, but every time you walk into the room, I forget about forgetting and my heart just aches.

It's not longer a stupid crush, you know. The feelings didn't fade with our teenage years. They're still there, and unarguably stronger. Maybe you're the reason I broke up with Amanda, Anjulie, or all those women. I always saw your face in theirs, no matter who I dated… even in Storm's. Yeah, I think have issues.

But here I am now, sitting here on a pew. I don't move when everyone rises up to congratulate you and Piotr, all oblivious to the pathetic elf at the corner. But I don't blame them; tonight, you look absolutely beautiful. You're wrapped in a pure-white gown that almost matches your porcelain skin, your chestnut hair piled up in curls, only a few strands covering your clear blue eyes. You're laughing and talking to the guests, but evgery so often you glance towards your new husband and smile. I wish you'd smile like that to me.

This is so fucking unfair. I chose to be the martyr of my life, so what the hell. But I guess it's worth it when I see your face as I walk towards you.

"Kurt!" you exclaim, grasping my fingers with your slender ones. "I can't believe you made it! Piotr and I were getting worried." You wrap your arms around me into a hug, and I breathe in your flowery scent. Maybe for the last time.

"Vell, I did," I reply, muscles straining to keep a goddamn smile. Now, why would the adorable, easy-going fuzzy elf hate the Russian hunk? If only Piotr was abusive or ugly or hated pirates. If only he wasn't so goddamn nice. He was likable, and I hated him for that.

He took you before I had the chance to get over her. It's irrational and stupid, I know.

Your face lights up like the sun as you beam at me. "It's good to see my best friend again."

"Jaja, but don't get used to this face. I have to go," I manage.

"So soon?" You sound like your heart is breaking, not mine.

I nod. "Congratulations, Katzchen," I mumble, talking to my feet instead. "Have…" What was I going to say? Have a great life? Have fun with your sparkly prince? Have what?

So I left and I didn't look back, not even when I'm in my car and driving to the airport for Germany.

"Verdammt," I whisper, fists clenched. "Gottverdammt, Wagner. All you know is how to run, huh?"

Wrong.

Because I'm sitting.

I guess I'll just sit here and die then.

I wish I could stop writing depressing ficlets all the time ._.

This was originally a Tokka piece (Avatar the Last Airbender) but it turned out Kurtty-ish. I've never written in this style, but I hope you enjoy anyways. ;) Or not. Cookies again, anyone?