What's the point of this fic? Well, let the record reflect that I started writing this fic on:
10/12/08
And ended this fic on:
10/12/08
She was, truly, such a flirt when he met her. She flirted with every guy she ever saw. She knew that all the guys she hit on probably thought they were "special", as if they were the only guy she had ever flirted with. As if she were up for a relationship; as if she wanted a commitment.
She didn't.
He knew that the moment he met her, in their senior year of high school, in the Bronx. She was such a party girl, such a flirt. She had been smoking cigarettes since eighth-grade, he found out later. She was such a rebel. She had been wearing black since ninth-grade, everyday, but stopped before twelfth-grade, he found out early on in their "relationship".
If you could call it that. It was a playful, somewhat fluffy relationship in the beginning, which turned into them caring about each other. Heck, they grew on each other eventually. They leaned on each other and supported each other. And just as if any person hung around you a lot, they would care if something happened to the other; it would matter to them. Even if she spent her whole life forcing him to do something he didn't want to do in the first place, she still mattered to him. And he told her what she wanted to hear, that he thought of it all as enjoyable, with no consequences.
He didn't mean it.
Though she was only completely retarded and careless a few times, it was enough to make both of their lives horrid. And he sighed and went along with it, of course. He did whatever she asked.
He didn't want to.
And when they got the results to questions that no one wanted to ask, she took the plunge. And no, she couldn't do it peacefully. She had to go out with a bang. His stomach clenched as he remembered…
And then…
He met her. And she was…well, obnoxious. She was so in your face. But that was what she was used to-giving her all, knowing that whoever she wanted would love her. She never really thought anyone would really love her, though; her parents even didn't.
They didn't care.
Eventually, the past of both of them was coaxed out by the other. But it didn't matter, though it was nice to have things out in the open. But really, there is no past.
It didn't matter. All that mattered was them, and wherever they were, or would be, or used to be, that was all insignificant.
It didn't matter.
I feel iffy about this one.