Ping-Pong. Yakosoku.
Authors Note: I'm sorry for not being here to entertain you.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts.
Summary: Holy fuck. I have not been around lately, have I? I bet no one even remembers me now.
She sat there-- her mind playing ping-pong with the last few moments. She remembered the first time she saw him and how his face looked. And how his face had changed when he grew to like girls. And how it changed yet again when he realized that girls liked him. She saw his face the first time she kissed him and the first time he touched her. Now she recalled his face slamming the door to her room.
She sat there—her fingers pulling at the carpet. Her face was red-hot, her hands were cold, her head was aching, and her heartbeat was hollow.
"He…" She stood, shaking. Anger making her want to rip apart her clothes, scratch and the door, kick in walls and spider-web her paopu-lined mirror. She yanked at the door, rushing after him. He was leaving her house, his fists clenched to his side. Twin pools of blue glared daggers. She pulled at her hair.
"I hate you." She wanted him to feel her anger. She wanted to breathe smoke. She wanted to cry. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to sleep.
"You've made that pretty clear." He laughed at her and continued on his way.
She groaned. She still needed this. She still needed him. How dare he think her inferior? How dare he forget about their precious memories? She clutched at her necklace desperately and shook her head. Lifting her feet, she willed herself forward. He would not walk away from her. Not after everything that had happened.
"Talk to me."
"No." He spun around. Their bodies so close she could feel his breath on her face.
Her mind was playing ping-pong. She remembered the first time they were alone. The first time he slept in her bed. The first time he screamed her name. The first time he slammed a door in her face.
Her lip quivered. Her eyes wavered. She wanted to pull him to her chest and scream. How could someone so close be so very far away? His eyes were angry. Distant. Not his at all. She took a step back. He took a step back.
He crossed his arms. She held her face in her hands. Anger or sorrow? Anger or sorrow? Her mind could not decide as minds often do while in crisis.
Her mind was playing ping-pong. She remembered the way his eyelids trembled at night. How his smile was brighter than necessary. How she loathed him from her very core. How she wanted him with every fiber of her being.