The faint silhouette of two bodies pressed against each other. The taller couldn't possibly be Yuuma.. Could it? Miki was certain. They were a thing now. Kind of.
But her answer was deemed incorrect after the said person walked out of the room, eyes consumed with lust so strong that Miki thought she would melt. But those eyes were not for her.
"But I thought, but I thought you loved me."
She had failed to find the element of sadness inside her, her feelings were simply buried too deep right now, too deep.
"And I thought you — "
But before he had finished speaking, a choked sob emitted dry lips and before any other words could be said, he was gone. More specifically dragged off.
She had been endlessly trampled on, Miki had. Maybe if she'd be trampled on in an artful way, in a way that so the pain wasn't so great to morph her heart into an unconscious organ, in a way that didn't have such sharp pain, maybe then it wouldn't have been so ridiculously painful.
But the thing was, he hadn't.
She had also thought, she had thought that Yuuma and her weren't meant to be, as idiotic as it sounded. Ever since Piko had left her for somewhere, maybe even someone else, the only one left to comfort her was Yuuma, and Yuuma only. So thus, she foolishly, aimlessly and unknowingly threw out all common sense for him.
Only to find that he didn't love her back.
Of course, Yuuma and his soft hair, sensual touch and bright eyes could get better. Of course he preferred prepossessing girls with bodies that twisted one way too many and lips so full they looked like balloons. Of course he'd prefer to tangle his large hands in long, silken locks and trail his other fingers down a delicate arm over ruffling shaggy, unruly hair, flicking foreheads and trying to grip onto a flimsy hand.
Of course.
Of course. She was so naïve, to think that Yuuma would ever look at him twice, like that.