Disclaimer: Despite my attempt to own Kuroko no Basket, Fujimaki just won't let me do so.
Characters: Fem!Akashi.
Note: English isn't my born language. And I won't update anything else but Akakuro until the November 4th. That's it. Grammar prolems, angsty all over the place.
Summary: You're not crying.
(-Really, who in the right minds would get married to another girl when Akashi is around? Stupid me.)
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There you go...let it all slide out.
You wears red to the wedding. It's just red with frills and lace and a skirt made of silk that swirls around when you spins. It's as red as your hair that perfectly curl and clipped back with diamond, and on any other day, you shines the brightest, forcing others to shut their eyes in front of you.
Not today.
Today, you watch as another, more beautiful than you can ever be, glides down to the aisle, in white satin that spills down the curve of her body, perfectly matching the roses pinned into her silking hair. (You can never imagine yourself in white, and roses in your hands or your hair. You hate roses, because they are given to express love until it becomes meaningless.)
She meets him at the altar and you watch as tears spring to her eyes and to the eyes of her mother, her aunt, his mother, his father, his grandmother.
You're not going to cry.
It will make you become like them, so happy for the blushing bride and her prince charming. Because you aren't happy. You're not, you're fearless and absolute and brighter than the sun, but you're not happy.
Especially when they just feel like defying you like that.
You're not going to cry at the wedding, at the woman has stoden the one thing that mattered to you, that rightfully belonged to you.
Music plays, lights dim, and you need air, need to go away from the suffocating atmosphere of the wedding. But you stand there, meeting his eyes for a moment, just to let him know.
That he's going to regret choosing her over you.
That you're still you, lovely and broken.
Perhaps a broken heart can be healed, one day.
Perhaps.
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a/n: I don't even know what that is. I don't like it. It's up to you who is the poor guy.
Until the next chapter.
Review?