Master of Mixed Signals
By Saltwater Romance
Drabble #2: Capitale de la Douleur
"J'entends vibrer ta voix dans tous les bruits du monde" – P. Eulard.
This was it.
Her eyes watered as she looked into his breathtaking eyes before he relented, enveloping her into his warmth. His hand smoothed down her hair and moved its way down to caress the small of her back. Her grip on him tightened, and she promised herself just as fiercely that she could survive this.
He even told her himself that she was the strongest person he knew; mountains would move on their own will before she would shed a tear.
His girlfriend gently tapped him on the shoulder, wanting to be the next to embrace her. His heat disappeared as his girlfriend's gentleness engulfed her.
Repeating her earlier promise, she again commanded herself not to cry. Especially not while in the arms of her competitor. A couple of months ago, they got back together. Right after she deemed him unworthy of her time. How was it that even though she told herself that he lost out on what could have been the best thing of his life, she felt like the loser?
She bit her cheek.
No.
This was not the time to mope. Or the time to cringe over the pounds gained over compensating for the emptiness in her heart with gallons of vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and binge watching addictive TV shows. The tighter his girlfriend clung onto her, the more aware she became of the softness of her middle.
There was a honk behind her. She looked up to reality; she was finally moving away from the only home she knew. Before his girlfriend let her go, she drew an x over both their hearts. Forever connected.
She weakly waved to the others, halfheartedly agreeing to remain in contact with them all. They were naïve to think their friendships could withstand the distance.
He stared at her as she clambered into the moving truck. She foolishly locked eyes with him.
This was goodbye.
She was the first to look away.
Author's Sidenote: I am thinking of completing the rest of my work before retiring.