A/N: Rated T for sexual references and slight language. I do not own Digimon in any way, shape, form, or fashion.
The night was cool and dark, like a window pane after a storm. The busy streets of Tokyo were teaming with life even at this dark hour. Sora turned over in her sleep, grasping at the covers to find a familiar shape.
"Matt," she mumbled groggily. When her searching hands found nothing, she sat up and blinked. "Matt?"
The apartment was still. Pulling the covers around her body, she moved off the bed and fumbled for the light switch. Flinching back from the sudden burst of light, she rubbed her tired eyes and peered around the unkept room.
"Matt?" she whispered again, clutching the covers close to her breast. The silence of her apartment screamed its answer.
Desperately, she flew to window, searching for the familiar black Jaguar Matt drove. Its parking space was empty.
"Maybe he went out to get groceries." Her voice cracked, tears welled up in her eyes. "Maybe he's just-- gone out for a bit, for some fresh air."
It was good to play the maybe game. It kept her sane. Kept her going. She moved to kitchen, slowly like a dream, and flicked the lights on. Her eyes sought for something that wasn't there.
"Didn't even leave a note, huh." She dragged her covers over the lithium floor and placed her palm down on the cool countertop, stroking the remote marble.
He was a selfish ass, that's what he was. Every time he would come back to her, begging forgiveness, twisting her emotions around his fingers. He would breathe sweet nothings on her skin and tantalize her body, playing with her much like a cat plays with its favorite toy. She would fall into his seductive Venus Fly trap and would be content with him-- content with the world, no matter how upside down everything in her life had become. At that one moment, he could make all those bad memories go away, like a skillful surgeon erasing a scar.
But then morning would come, and the spell would break. Her carriage would turn back into a pumpkin and Prince Charming would be long gone, riding off into the sunset with her stolen heart. The trustful surgeon ends up being nothing but a con, leaving a bigger scar in exchange of the original one.
She didn't need to check her wallet to know he had made off with her finances. At this point, the bigger crime was the embezzlement of her heart. Sora slumped to the ground, curling into fetal position. She deserved better. She knew she did.
Night shifted into morning, and Sora's breath became stable once more. She untangled herself from the secure warmth of the comforter and padded through her house nude. She felt exposed with or without clothes on-- there was no point of giving herself false securities.
She turned her shower on scolding hot and jumped in, disinfecting herself from his touch.
"There," she said to herself, looking in the bathroom mirror with a bright smile on her face. "We're not going to let him come and take our heart again, are we?" The mirror smiled back in response.
Quickly she got dressed and immersed herself in vacuuming every room, intent on annihilating any memories of him that still lingered. More than once her eyes wandered towards the apartment door. Each time she would shake her head, and mutter to herself, "He's not coming back, foolish girl. Not until he's spent all that money, anyway. Besides, we don't need him back. We're going to be just fine without him."
She finished vacuuming around noon, feeling extremely pleased with herself. Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she admired her handiwork. Her apartment was spotless. No more bad memories of dawdling desires. He was out for good.
That thought should have given her a sense of renewed freedom; instead, she felt more trapped than ever. She moved towards her kitchen and picked up the limp comforter. Putting it to her face, she inhaled deeply.
She smelled a warm summer's day, and Matt picking her flowers from some poor old lady's garden. She smelled the sunshine reflecting off of Matt's honey-colored hair, and the lopsided smile that passed over his lips. She smelled his cologne, deep and musky, mingled with her body wash, tart and fruity. All the smells melted together and formed one big happy memory, one that had been washed away long ago from the many visits to the Laundromat.
She smelled what they used to be.
With new resolve, Sora opened her apartment door and sat in the frame, waiting and welcoming in future heartbreak.
A/N: And hello again. Another Digimon one-shot. As you can see, I've become quite obsessed.
In all honesty, I'm not a fan of the Matt/Sora pairing. I feel as though it's lacking. Matt and Sora's personalities are just too dissimilar, making their relationship awkward in my opinion. But I may only think that because I want to keep Matt and all his emo-ness to myself. ^^
And as always, review!
{You know something else I don't like? The title to this story. Yuck! All my creative juices must have fizzled out. Leave a comment suggesting a better title and I just might change it to something that's hopefully a little less corny!}