EXACTLY 500 words XD I'm awesome. Just a bit of a drabble while I work up the courage to look at my old, unfinished fics –stares Obsession down with the eye- Also wanted to get a bit of melancholy and fatalism out of the way because happiness is the stuff sugar rushes are made of.
...Also I think I may be feeling a bit guilty for 3-4 odd years of inactivity hence the sudden onslaught of writing.
I left the POV up to you on this one. Pick your Kai pairing and run with it.
Disclaimer: Do not own. Want. But can't have.
He's perfect, you know.
Arrogant, conceited, proud, fiery, selfish. Perfect.
And, of course, he knows just how perfect he is.
I hate him.
I hate the way he moves, the confidence that allows him to look ahead and walk without stumbling. I hate the way his eyes know everything but his lips won't move to let you in on the big secret. I hate the way he talks, letting you know just how far from perfection you are like you always will be.
I hate the way he thinks, taking everything and analysing it until he understands exactly how it works and how to exploit it. I hate his mask, hiding all of his thoughts and only readable to those who have studied it. I hate his loneliness and the way he uses it like a protective cloak, discouraging anyone from getting closer. I hate his hands, hard and calloused, reaching out in ways that could smother you.
He's perfect in every way.
The perfection of every movement, always knowing where and how to move, like he's floating through life. The perfect way his eyes can see everything you can't express in mere words and the way his lips would never move to tell your big secrets. The perfect way he talks, letting you know about his perfection and giving you a chance to revel in the joy of being so close to him.
The perfect way he thinks, searching for meaning and understanding in things others wouldn't notice. His perfect mask that only shows his feelings to those who know him best. His perfect loneliness, keeping him aloof and apart from the imperfect world. His perfect hands, calloused from hours of work yet still able to hold the delicate world within them.
I love him.
He will never love me.
He will never love the way I move, the way I seem to catch everything with sharp corners with my flailing limbs. He will never love how my eyes see only him and my lips move only because he's still in my world. He will never love the way I talk, stumbling over my words as I try to copy and claim some of his perfection as my own.
He will never love the way I think, a jumble of thoughts tripping over each other in an attempt at coherence. He will never love my mask, the one of self-control that belies the mess I am inside. He'll never love my loneliness and the way I try to combat it by becoming friends with everyone I meet. He will never love my scarred and rough hands too used to hard work to be used for anything but.
He loves someone else.
He loves the way they move, their eyes, their lips, the way they talk, the way they think, their loneliness and their hands. He loves everything about that person who is not me.
He's perfect, you know.
Perfect in every way possible.
But Kai will never be mine.
Please let me know what you think.
No, seriously, please do. It's been a while since I've written anything and I want to know where I can improve.