No no no. It's the same story, just edited a little. Plus I'm adding the other installments after this chapter, so that future readers (and those who want to reread the series) won't have to waste time skipping from one story to another to get their AyaxRei fix. Consider it my way of saying thanks to all my devoted readers out there. You guys rock! Totally rock.
Without Me
Six months and he thought he had gotten over her completely, that he could continue with his miserable life without her by his side. He really shouldn't be acting this way; in the first place, it was he who broke up with her, who pushed her away even after she came begging him to take her back, to stay with her even with the knowledge that he cannot love her as much as she wanted to be loved.
No. He broke her heart, shattered it into a million pieces, then left her alone to pick up the fragments, while he, cold and insensitive as he was, continued to go about his (un)merry way, pretending to live a fulfilling life.
And at first he thought he could pass off as the perfect bachelor; no commitments, no strings, no nothing. And he busied himself with everything he could get his hands on – modeling projects, graveyard shifts in the radio station, overtimes in the record bar. And for a while it did him good; he was able to forget the heartbroken image of an angel he left to bleed by herself.
But now, six months after that (un)fateful day, he realized he could pretend no more. The memories came rushing in once again, snippets of another moment in time when he still had the luxury to hold her close whenever he wanted to, to watch her smile delicately at everything he said, to take her for granted as he would always do.
And as the floodgates of nostalgia open wide, along with it came the defeat of being alone, sad, heartbroken.
After much hesitation he finally gathered enough courage to pick up the phone and dial a number he hadn't thought of for months. He almost snickered at himself at the realization that he had her number memorized in his head, even after erasing it from his phone book.
His heartbeat increased in rhythm as he heard the first ring; he knew not what to say to her when she picked up the phone. He imagined himself saying the smoothest lines to win her back; he always had a way with her using words. He could almost picture her innocent, delicate smile when she hears his voice, a voice which, no doubt, she'd been longing, dying, to hear ever since the day he told her that he cannot love her anymore.
Two rings. Three.
In a few more moments she'd pick it up and the story of their lives would then continue. He wanted to remind her that she was alone,probably as alone as he was, inquire if she's feeling lonely, if perhaps, just perhaps, she would want to meet up and reminisce the old times. She'd most likely say yes; she never was one to turn down an invitation from him.
Four rings. Five. Six.
He'd take her to their favorite spot in the park, ask her the most nonsensical questions just to keep the conversation going, until he muster enough courage to ask if, by any chance, she'd be willing to give both of them another try. He knew she'd be more than willing to give it a shot; she had, in fact, been chasing him all their high school life. She'd take him back without any questions.
Seven rings. Eight. Nine.
Finally, a click. His heart missed a beat as he prepared himself to listen to the kind voice of the angel whom he left alone. He got all the words planned, every answer to every possible question she might ask ready.
Moshi-moshi. This is Aya Hoshino. I am not home right now, so please leave a message after the beep.
All the smooth lines left his head as he listened to the constant hum of her answering machine, taunting him, proving that she had already moved on with her life without him. He dared not speak, for he feared that his voice might falter as he leaves her a message.
Five seconds more and the humming stopped, signaling that the call was cut short and that he, for all his good, or not-so-good, intentions, failed.
Two hours and five beer bottles later he finally fell asleep on the sofa, after convincing himself that it had all been a joke, that he didn't really intend on taking her back, that he was merely playing, wasting his spare time since he had nothing better to do.
But the tears that fell down his cheeks as he whispered her name in his sleep betrayed his earlier conviction that he was no longer in love with her.
At the other side of town, a solitary brunette came in her house and checked the answering machine. Among the calls she received was a blank message, with only the sad humming of wind in the background, and a familiar sigh from a person whom she had never forgotten.
Sneak peak from I'll Be Over You:
A small part of her still hoped he'd come back.
The bigger part knew that's next to impossible, and that she should just move on.