DISCLAIMER: I DISCLAIM.

Written in an attempt to get my creative circuits working.

He comes home to an empty flat.

It is bare from all things her – like her favorite candle that smelled like candyfloss and that old blanket her mother made, full of holes and covered in patches of different colours. He moves to their bedroom and it has the same emptiness too. Some of the pictures are gone from the top of their chest of drawers (the ones with her in them) and her makeup that used to litter their dressing table has also disappeared (except for the red tube of lipstick he bought for their anniversary). A feeling rises in the pit of his stomach – the same feeling he got when he was little and had to watch Dudley smash ants beneath his fingers.

"Hello."

He turns around and sees her in all her glory, her red mane of hair surrounding her face like a picture frame. She shines and stands out like a shooting star flashing across the night sky, but her face is unusually cadaverous and her lips are twisted into a scrunched line.

"I'm sorry." she whispers, her eyes refusing to meet his. He wants to ask about what's going on, he wants to get angry and yell and scream at her just to see that face crumple like autumn leaves beneath his feet.

But he is weak and unable to handle her watery eyes and all that manages to come out of his mouth is a soft "Why?" and a cough of discomfort. She shuffles her feet against the wooden floor and with a pause that lasts a millennium spreading between them, she finally looks up, her eyes burning into him like the sun hitting his back on a hot summer's day. "I love you." he says with a flat voice.

She shakes her head, her lips mouthing 'no' over and over again.

He feels his own tears prick his eyes and she murmurs goodbye in his ear, a soft sound lost in the tornado of his emotions. The sound of her feet slowly shuffling farther and farther away from him hurts his head and the door closes with a click. One more streak of water falls from his eyes and he lets out deep breath before falling to the floor on his knees.

He comes home to an empty flat.

One-sided...is okay, right?

EDIT: 6/2/2011