Smile like you mean it

And someone is calling my name
From the back of the restaurant
And someone is playing a game
In the house that I grew up in

It has been a while since he has last seen her smile – her real, genuine smile, the one that shows off her slightly disproportionate front teeth, inherited from her mother, and makes everyone around her feel, in turn, the irrepressible need to grin just as widely. It has been a while since he has last seen her smile, and as much as he tries to ignore it, as much as he tries to convince Lily of the contrary, he misses it – he misses her.

He knows it is his own fault; he knows he is the one who hurt her to the point that she won't even stretch those lovely lips of hers anymore. And he still hates himself for it – because if only he had known, if only he had not waited so long… But he also hates her for it. And he wishes she wouldn't be so sad and depressed all the time.

He wishes she would get over this silly crush of hers, this so called heartbreak that he first thought would be mended in a week, and smile again, like she means it. She could even fake it, he thinks, and keep her sadness to herself, instead of flaunting it in everyone's face ; she could play this cheerful and overjoyed role he now knows never really fit her, if only so that he would not feel so guilty all the time.

He knows this is extremely selfish of him. He knows – yes, he is even ready to admit it – that he is the one at fault, not the over way around. He was too oblivious to pick up on the fact she liked him – or maybe he just did not want to pick up on those hints. Because it was so much easier to fall in love with her cousin when he thought she did not give a damn about him; it was so much easier to do what the others thought was right; instead of what he felt was right. Because it is so much easier to live by someone else's rules and standards, instead of wasting time making up your own.

He also knows that it would have hurt him, too, if she had not been sad. Because, really, up until this point, up until last year, it has always been about her. Up until Lily came around and he decided it was right for him to fall in love with her, it had always been all about her, and he still likes to think, even if it's wrong, even if he has no right to, that to her, it is still all about him.

He loves her smile. It was the first thing that really attracted him to her, pushed him to gain her friendship; the sight of her smile, the sound of her laugh. He promised, that day in third year when he finally worked up the courage to approach her and she turned out to be even friendlier than she seemed, he promised to himself he would make her smile and laugh as often as he could, just to be granted the special privilege of seeing it, hearing it from up close. Up until that point, up until last year, he had kept that promise. But now, he has made her cry, and she probably will never properly look at him again, let alone talk to him or listen to his jokes.

And he can't help but regret that.

But at the same time, he doesn't really want her to smile again; because when she was depressed, sad and morose, Lily seemed so much prettier. But he knows – he remembers – how much brighter her smile is, compared to his fiancée's ; and he fears seeing it once more will make him fall in love with her all over again – fall in love with the wrong person all over again.