She sees him play the most meaningful song she's ever heard, watches the tears fall down his face. She can feel his emotion.
But that doesn't matter, because she's not looking for the obvious movements and signs that everyone else is looking at. She's watching his eyelashes bat, his nose scrunch, and his fingers glide over the keys.
She sees how he is barefoot (and really, who does that at a live concert?) and notices how even his toes move to the beat unconsciously.
And somehow, that makes everything better.
She shuts off the television, wondering if the fact that she basically handed her heart to him just a few short hours ago affects him at all. If he cares.
She can't help but think that he doesn't care, because everyone loves a little pity. So she gets a tub of chocolate ice cream, sits down to watch a lovesick comedy, and imagines her heart sewing back together. She convinces herself that it's whole again (even though she's absolutely sure that it isn't).
She picks up the phone, her hands trembling, and her heart in pieces, because she's content with all of it at least staying in her chest.
She knows she has to call him. She knows he's probably with another girl. And most of all, she knows that he's too good for her, and that he knows this too.
She dials the most familiar number, and listens to the rings, the sound soothing her ragged exhaling.
Finally, on what she's sure is the last ring, he picks up. "Caity," he breaths, and she imagines that he's just so relieved that she called (and so eager to get together again).
"Nate… baby, I feel horribly stupid to call you right now, but… I- this apartment is too lonely without you brighten it up. And," her voice breaks," when you said you couldn't love me, that nobody could love me… well, I think that you lied. Because under all of that, you're just as broken as I am. And I thought that maybe if I kissed the way you do, you might feel what I'm feeling. Love."
She listens to his breath, knows that she said the wrong thing somewhere in her little speech, and feels the tears come on.
"I'm sorry. So sorry. I'm sorry, so, so, extremely sorry. You shouldn't even compare your kisses to mine; you're too perfect."
Finally we're both feeling the same.
So, this is based off of the beautiful song by Maria Mena, Sorry (which I don't own, btw). Please review, and I'm sorry if it was jumbled! Thankies!
~StroodleDoodledFuhn