Author's note: A one shot. Feedback/Opinions/Thoughts are appreciated and generally encouraged.
No Rain
He didn't even look up. Without making any sound she took the seat next to him. It was a dull Wednesday. The sky clouded heavily matching her mood. Dark, suffocating and brimming on the verge of explosion. "H-hey" He flinched almost as if burned. One would easily fail to notice. She however was watching him intently. It made her flinch too on the inside.
"I'm look I'm sorry okay." She swallowed the lump. Repeatedly to no avail. It kept on forcing its way up. He didn't have to say anything beyond that. They both knew already it was over. The budding romance ending in tragedy. Life had a tendency of not sticking with the movies. The classroom was emptying out. Kind of like her heart draining of life.
"So uhm see ya around Mary" Uncertain he gave her a pat on the back. Mary. See you around Mary. God she wanted to go jump off a cliff. Why did he have to call her Mary? Why did he have to remind her that Mary could never be Mary? She'd never be that Mary, his Mary ever again. In fact secretly deep down she knew she never was.
"Bye Tristan and it's Rory" His hand released the shoulder it'd been gripping. The same shoulder that had been dislocated a few weeks ago. Her thin pink lips formed a smile. It disfigured her otherwise hateful expression. Rory. It was plain fucked up fucking plain Rory. Not Mary who had been pure, innocent and loved. Not Tristan's Mary, but his Rory. That cold, tainted, hateful girl Mary despised.
His Rory was far from pure and anything but loved. It was his Rory that scared Tristan away. Rory made him run. Mary wanted to follow. Rory shut Mary up quickly. After all Mary didn't exist. Rory did. Tristan wanted her to talk. He wanted to know. In his desperation to help he even threatened her. Still she sat as a statue. Silent as marble. Exterior not breaking unless he physically hacked into her. Even then he wouldn't't find anything. Same material inside and out.
"It doesn't have to end like this" Fiery blue met cold ice. Her eyes guarded from showing emotion. There was no such colour as blue. There were shades several of them. Tristan used to be magically blue. Enchanting and utterly wicked. Twinkling and shining like only magic can. Rory used to be baby blue. Childlike and angelic like children are before they grow. The magic died to preserve a scientific reality and youth lost innocence to age.
"We can still be friends" The rug was successfully pulled under him. Rory knew it had to end like this. Because life, life, life the word stuck to her thoughts. Because life was life and she didn't know why. Kill the faith before fanatical belief turns it into a crusade. Crush his hope. Make him hate. Make him despise. Make him forget. Make him leave. Make him think you're the evil one. Maybe after that it wont be so hard.
He turned around and left. His shoulders slouching in defeat. Head bowed in a shame she did not understand. Legs walking brusquely. His face shielded from her view. He'd be damned if he'd let anyone see.
Finally alone Rory took out her book. It didn't rain that day. She didn't cry either.