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Thunder crashed as the first raindrop collided with the sidewalk. It was quickly followed by many more. She continued walking, even as the rain soaked her hair, her dress, her sneakers. The raindrops that landed on her cheeks melded with the tears streaming unchecked from her eyes. She heard hurried footsteps behind her, and then his voice, asking her to stop, to slow down. She didn't; instead, she quickened her pace. In response, he started to run and caught up to her easily.

"Please, just stop. Talk to me a minute," he pleaded.

She stopped, but kept her eyes low, wouldn't meet his gaze. She looked anywhere but into his beautiful, fierce amber eyes, which was hard to do, given that he now stood in front of her and reached to cradle her head in his strong hands. He looked at her with those pain-filled eyes and wiped at the watermarks streaking her face. More tears pooled in her violet eyes as she averted his gaze.

"Please," he implored, "please. I'm sorry. I-I really am. Forgive me, okay? Forget I said anything and just-just come home, okay?"

She had so much to say. She wanted to yell, to chew him out, to spit every hurtful, honest thing she could think of, to verbally spar with him as she had become so accustomed to doing, but the words wouldn't come out. She found herself, for the first time in a long time, speechless. The only sounds she was able to emit were the gut-wrenching cries of her heart and soul, and even then they were only audible to her.

A bolt of lightening lit up the sky momentarily, then all was dark again.

She finally looked up at him, not into his eyes, not yet, but up. He was soaked as well. His wet hair stuck to his forehead in messy, burnt-orange tresses. His face was wet, like hers, but whether that was from the rain or his own tears, she didn't know.

No, not tears...she thought. The boy-no, the man in front of her was too tough, too guarded to shed tears, especially for her. It had taken the possibility of her permanent departure for him to voice any sort of partiality he had for her, even after years of what had become more than friendship. She'd had enough. She needed a clean break and, when the offer came, presented personally by her brother, she took it. Her life here was going nowhere and the one person she'd stay for--the one who held her tiny, fragile heart in his strong hands--would never be able to sort through his feelings in time to see hers, to see how brightly and passionately hers burned...for him.

Of course, that wasn't entirely his fault. Their relationship had been so easy, even from the beginning. There had never been any formalities or pretenses. They fought and argued and laughed as if they'd known each other forever. It had always been comfortable, safe; she always felt comfortable, safe, when she was with him. Always. But she couldn't hold him back, not anymore. Not when he had a life here, with his family and friends, and hers was, and always would be elsewhere.

More thunder crashed above them, and the rain poured harder, but neither of them could feel it.

When she wouldn't look at him, he whispered, "Idiot," and pulled her into his chest. His arms slipped around her shoulders as she pressed her face into him, let the tears flow from her eyes to his shirt. She gripped his shirt, curled her fingers into its warmth, to pull herself closer to him. Sobs escaped their captivity in her throat, and he rubbed her back, stroked her hair, trying, albeit awkwardly, to calm her down.

He probably had no idea why the raven-haired girl now sobbed into his chest, why his outrage at the announcement of her departure had upset her so. Still...he was young and strong and needed someone...someone normal. She knew she wasn't that "someone," even though every fiber of her being so desperately wanted to be. She let herself savor that moment, there, in his arms. But just for a moment. Then she'd walk away, she'd let him go, and somehow convince him it's what she wants. But for now, she let her heart have its way, and stood in the arms of the man she loved, for just a moment longer.