This is a two shot, and sadly this is only my second story.
I know it is really short, but I am going to try to write longer stories later.
I hope you enjoy it and please review, especially if you have any tips! ;D
"Shika…"
Pain radiated throughout me as I stared at the open door. The rain poured down on me but nothing could make me move from here. He was here; he had to be here.
Lies.
Everything I had ever been told were lies: meeting him, being put onto the same genin team, forgetting Sasuke before he even left, falling in love with Konoha's laziest ninja, everything. If Shikamaru wasn't here anymore then nothing could possibly still exist. Yet the truth was all around me.
My cell phone buzzed again, letting me know that our friends were real; that they still cared. Lights were on in the house next door, and a young couple walked hand in hand, clearly in love.
Had I been willing to pay attention, I would have been admitting that he had left me forever; that Shika was gone forever and he was never coming back for me. But those were lies. Everybody just wanted to hurt me. There was no other explanation; because there was no way that he could be gone.
I felt his hand brush away the tears staining my cheeks.
I heard his voice echoing through the empty hall.
I smelt his unique musky scent; no scent in the world could match it.
I could see his deep, intelligent eyes staring deep into my own.
But greatest of all, was I could taste his lips on mine.
I wished I could wake up from this nightmare. If everything else wasn't a lie, then his departure must be real, and the reality caused a never-ending, stabbing pain to rip through my already shredded heart.
"I would give anything for you to walk around that door right now…"
My leaden feet dragged themselves to the doorway. My arm rose uselessly, and then fell limply back to my side. His image flashed before my eyes of the first time I stood here.
He had smiled his perfectly dazzling smile, then waved me in as if my presence meant nothing even though the look in his eyes screamed that he wanted me to stay. His fading image gave me enough courage to slide through the door; gently pushing it shut behind me. The front staircase was breath taking, but the only thing that took my breath away were the eyes staring right at me, as if they had been waiting just for me. I choked back a sob, realizing that it was only a picture.
The memory of him haunted every inch of this place. I slid down the door, unable to move any further into the repressing home.
I didn't move. I didn't think. I didn't feel.
I might as well have been dead…then I would be with him.
