disclaimer: me no own, me no own.
pairing: sokai, sonami
warning: angst D:
- - -
Ah.
What it would be to be loved.
Words pouring from lips belonging to someone who talked of another. Hands grabbing other hands, desperately caressing someone else's skin.
And what it would be to love.
To have the heart twisted in so many different ways, and to feel that buzz – that energy – rippling through your veins and take over you. Sweet caterpillars breaking from cocoons and filling your tummy, making you giggle and sway. Love, love, love.
And then you take that love you make and stick it into someone else's heart, pumping someone else's blood.
Like a pretty, wonderful circle.
Kairi knew love. Kairi was loved. Kairi loved.
Naminé knew love. Naminé drew love. Naminé thought love.
Naminé hated Kairi sometimes when she watched that boy – that beautiful, heroic boy – run through miles and miles of nothing for his girl, his everything. Naminé thought she was better than Kairi sometimes when she watched that boy – that scared, wrong boy – run through miles and miles of nothing while his everything trickled away behind him.
Naminé hated herself sometimes.
She was ruining it, ruining Sora, ruining Kairi and ruining that love. That amazing feeling she could just remember. That amazing feeling she tried to grasp onto always. That amazing feeling that slipped through her fingers always.
Big, wet tears would ( not ) fall from her cheeks as she drew and coloured and scribbled things she was ( not ) told to change.
She wanted him for herself, but she wanted him for her-other-self.
It wasn't her fault she was confused when he asked her what she was doing.
- - -
—fin. (: