Hi again.
So uh, this is my second story.
Enjoy.
-xxshadesofRed
The kisses are never real, he warns her, time and time again.
Sometimes, she forgets—with her fingers intertwined with his, staring into his onyx eyes and ghost touches that feels a little like love. At times, she wishes to forget—as he closes his eyes and feels her fingers on his face, trailing his features; from his eyebrows to his crooked nose, across his cheeks and along his jaw and she wishes to forget, because she remembers every fine detail. His lips are soft against hers, and before she could whisper 'I love you,' he warns her—he warns her that his kisses are never real.
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((I will never love you))
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"Please don't leave," she pleads in vain. She knows—she's aware that her efforts are futile, because he's sitting at the edge of her bed, shoving his feet into his boots. She could feel the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes as she turns around. She turns around, and she feels better, because she won't see his retreating back. She hears a shuffling movement, and she knows that he's already on his feet, swiping his car keys off the table. He's taking out his phone and he's punching in the buttons, and she knows this.
It's a regular routine, and she wishes to forget.
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((I will never love you))
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Another day, another night. Another night, another day.
She's under him once again.
Skin against skin, and she forgets to remember that his kisses are never real. She's in bliss and he's in bliss—and she forgets, because she was lost in her own lust to understand. Every time they were together, she feels as though they are uniting properly. Pale-white skin, as she lingers her fingers on him, t-t-tapping as they create a rhythm, he allows her to be intimate with him. He flutters her eyelids shut, and she continues touching him.
"You're so beautiful," she whispers to him, inching her face closer towards his. She places her lips on his forehead and stays there for a minute or two, trailing down to his eye lids. She kisses him all over, and the feeling of want grew even more. She wants him, and she wants him to want her. Her lips are at the corner of his lips now, and if she just turns her head a little more, she would reach her destination.
"Karin."
She freezes.
Sometimes, she wishes to forget, because she knows she will never have him. He and her; they will never work out, because his heart was stolen by another and there's no way for her to slip into it.
'Why won't you love me,' she wants to ask—a desperate cry, she feels like screaming at him. 'Why won't you say my name?'
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((I will never love you))
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Like a mantra, she chants to herself. "He will never love me," she whispers, again and again. "His kisses are never real," she says, a little louder this time. She finds comfort in those harsh words; it was the only way to protect herself. It stops herself from wanting more, because what she wants was something he couldn't give. So she turns around and hugs herself, and she stops the tears from falling down.
She waits for him to go, once again, but she feels a pair of arms snaking around her waist—she holds her breath. She could feel his hot breath on her nape, and she tries not to squirm. She waits for him to say something, but he remains silent—and she thinks, she must have done something wrong for him to react this way. She prepares herself for the worst—the chanting continues in silence.
"I am sorry. Thank you, Sakura."
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((I will never love you))
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Sometimes, she wishes to forget, and she will.
'Time will heal,' someone said to her once, and she decides that she will be okay. She loves him, still—and whenever a thought of him came across her mind, she wishes to forget. She wishes to forget everything about him, because his world will still revolve without her in his life—and she knows he's happy with his significant other. She will be okay, because she loves him and it was wonderful—at least, to get a taste of his love, even if it was never real. She concludes that they were never real, since he and she was something that wasn't meant to happen.
As ever, he's still beautiful. He will still be someone she wants dearly but she will forget him.
Sometimes, she wishes to forget, and she will, someday.
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Fin