heartbreak on your face
II; Rootless – Marina and The Diamonds
–
She says, "I'm sorry."
He knows. Those two words resonate across the silence, in the breeze of a closing door. Reverberating, her voice sticks to his mouth and leaves an ashen taste on the tip of his tongue that won't go leave. He's heard her say those words so many times, pressed so gently on the corner of his cheek, and now it feels like an echo, fading, forgotten.
Each time he hears her, taking even breaths, warm enough to colour the sun, her voice becomes quieter, dipping into a whisper. If he's being honest, those words sound like the murmur in the recess of his mind. It tells him things that he doesn't wish to hear, things he doesn't wish to say. But he brushes it off, those tiny things and carries on.
He has to.
He must.
Gradually, Izuru notices: the timbre of Momo's voice, sweeping across the room and settles where he is.
She doesn't say, "I'm sorry."
Hinamori Momo simply looks at him, absentmindedly biting her lips, excitement in her eyes, bright in the shade of violet.
There's this gap between them, and it's growing still, as they stand still. It seems too late to bridge, the clock is ticking, and there's nothing he can do. Except wait. She will act, and then he will respond. That's how it's always been. He reacts to her, never the other way round.
She hasn't said anything yet.
But she will.
Her happiness masks her sadness, rose red lips widen into a beautiful smile; and she hugs him, holding on tightly. And he doesn't want to let go.
He wants to say something other than that—(that he loves her, he always has, he always will and will never stop)—that this is the furthest apart that they've ever been. It scares him, how she'll always have a part of him that he can never reclaim; but he's—
"Goodbye, Kira-kun." Stepping back, she fares one last smile, brimming with tenderness. "I'll miss you."
Truth is, he's lost his chance long ago.
Echoing the mumbled sentiment, the blond draws himself away, restraining himself from lingering in her presence. He knows how easily it is to be tongue-tied in her presence, and somehow he knows that the brunette isn't fooled by his stutters. But then, Momo has a talent for seeing through him and accepting him all the same.
He lets go, and waits for her to walk away.
The image is too much for him to see, so he closes his grey eyes and counts to ten; reluctant for the sound of her footsteps dancing against the floor.
… nothing.
There's nothing.
No sound, no clack of shoes against the linoleum, no skip, no hop, no jump.
Nothing.
He waits and waits, straining his ear for that nuance of sound. His patience expires, and grey blue eyes open slowly, unsure what to see.
It's just as he expects.
She's not there.
Shoulders slump, eyes lower, and gradually, he makes his way to the wide window. He's a stranger here, there's no one to greet or say farewell anymore. That moment has passed, and yet something intrinsic binds him here. Wills him to savour and cherish this last moment of seeing her.
To never forget the beam on her face.
He'd like to think that he can remember every inch of her grin, her electric megawatt smile of brilliant light, and can retrace it in an instance. Like dominoes, the pieces descend, nostalgia falling into place.
A little forlornly, Izuru Kira smiles.
Even if he had said something, it wouldn't have changed a thing.
She's going to America.
Why would she stay for him?