Unintended
A/N: Hmmm. Something I came up with after the prologue/drabble. Not sure if writing a part 2. Probably will? Since things here a a bit confusing. Questions are welcome!
---
You know how while you’re just goofing around facebook, some wise ass person decides to make a meme about life and its hardship? And it would be really inevitable to see since that person had made sure to make it really pretty so that it would get many hits and through this maybe s/he could get famous. But you don’t really care all about that shit since as soon as you read whatever is written, your mood automatically drags down and it makes you think about your own life. About life in general, how it could really be so cruel as to make people write about it in songs, poems, stories, and contemporarily, in memes.
It almost makes you skeptic about life but since you know you have control over your own, you decide that you won’t let it carry you. You decide to make your own waves and those will constitute up as your life, not the other way around.
You decide to make your own fairytale and be the perfect protagonist that you are. Because you think you can, because you believe you can. You trash away all those memes, all those songs, all those stories and make a huge placard to hang onto your brain: I make my own flow.
And ever since then, everything goes smoothly according to your plan, because you have the drive to make almost all things possible. You didn’t just stand there and watch; you moved, you sweated, you patiently waited, and you did all of these things because you know the results would make you happy. You felt extraordinary, you felt perfect.
Until one day karma turns its wheels to work and you woke up, life being the meanest bitch you’ve ever seen.
---
I woke up, for real this time, and the person beside me wasn’t the meanest bitch I’ve ever seen. In fact she was an angel, the angel, my angel, and I almost laughed at the thought of everything being so ironic; how this someone, instead of bringing light into my life, actually makes it murkier.
Funny how everything came so natural and comfortable now. I don’t wake up anymore feeling anxious that her arms are around my waist, and we’re practically skin against skin. I don’t get that weird feeling in my gut anymore whenever I stand up to pick articles of clothing on the floor, with her eyes glued on to me, not sure if because of appreciation or condemnation, either way I was supposed to get goosebumps but now even that I’ve gotten rid of.
And it was one of those days, I wasn’t surprised anymore, to sigh deeply as if to prepare myself before she wakes up, making sure everything’s intact and normal. I knew before that I was writing my own fairytale, but nowadays, I’ve been reduced to only think that I still am, even though Im not completely sure about anything anymore.
It’s one of the biggest frustrations of a writer you know, to be writing a story, but when he takes a break to lean back on his chair, he finds out he’s writing a completely different one than what he had intended it to be. Only life isn’t just a story. You can’t just crumple the papers, pretend you’re Kobe, and shoot all the shitty parts of what you’ve written down in the bin. Everything that happened-happened, and you can’t just go on living forward without taking a step back, thinking, if you really did the right thing or not.
I guess I was too immersed in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the other girl on the bed waking up, shifting closer towards me, until I felt the moisture of her breaths against the back of my ear.
“Hey sexy.” She said, in her most seductive voice. It would’ve been a turn on, but it was morning and im not really the type to start the day with a very laborious work.
Not hearing any response, she latched her lips on my nape and starting sucking on one part passionately, one of her hands also moving rhythmically against my abdomen.
I swatted her hand away and moved towards the edge of the bed to continue my sleep, or at least to wait until she stops whatever it is that she was thinking and get out of bed.
“Wow. Someone’s playing hard to get here, as always.”
I felt the bed shift and I thought she would get up to leave like she always does. But to my dismay, my part of the mattress dipped lower as she kneeled her way towards me only to crouch and take a peek of my face as I kept an indifferent expression. Deep inside me, I cringed; for the feel of her hands on my shoulder was burning, and I’m too scared to admit it to myself hence the external nonchalance.
She decided to push my shoulder back down, as I was lying on my side with my back against her, so that I would be in the normal sleeping position, after realizing that towering over my face and making funny faces won’t give her the reaction she wanted.
I immediately frowned at her as she hovered over me.
“Yuri-ah~” She said cutely, my defenses almost crumbled down.
I glared at her, letting her know that I wasn’t too happy with what she did and what she’s doing now, but like always, she would just giggle at it with that high-pitched voice of her.
I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but I hate her giggles, I hate them so freakin’ much. They remind me of dandelions and sunflowers and being in a white dress jovially skipping through the said pollen-infested field. I hated them so freakin’ much because im not supposed to feel this way. Im supposed to hate them with all my guts but I don’t so I hate them.
They remind me that there is something wrong with this story im writing.
“Come on, don’t look so despondent, it’s still early in the morning!” She said with such energy that for a second a friend of mine called Sunny passed through my thoughts.
I still kept the scowl on my face as I looked at her forehead and that’s when she decided to go to her plan B. Plan B consisted of pinching my cheeks as wide as possible that I’m pretty sure I looked stupid to her. Whatever glint of happiness or enjoyment she has on her eyes, I didn’t see, for I avoided them like the plague. Looking into her eyes always stirs up things inside me, and I never liked it whenever that happened. I had no choice but to look at her forehead, looking at her nose would only make me look lower and it might give her the impression I most certainly don’t want to give.
When she was done playing with my cheeks, she placed them back and tapped them a few times as if to make sure they were still intact. A few seconds have passed and she didn’t take her hands off my cheeks, that was when I realized she was cupping them.
I accidentally looked into her eyes because of my confusion over her silence and that move most certainly was the one which shot the arrow to my knee. I was defenseless and vulnerable when she leaned in to place her lips against mine. Unlike last night’s, her kiss this morning was gentle and almost floating, it felt like Yoona tickling my lips with a feather trying to wake me up.
It also didn’t last long, there wasn’t any hunger or lust or crave over that kiss and it took me by surprise. When I was too paralyzed to move or say something for I was still lost in her orbs, she cupped my cheeks again and giggled.
Ugh. That giggle.
“You better hurry up, baby, unless you wanna be late for work.” A sweet smile lingered on her face and I was paying all my attention to that when I realized her point.
I suddenly snapped my neck to the wall where the clock hung and saw I only had 30 minutes tops.
I jolted out of bed and was immediately sorry for I have thrown her off me in the process, only to find her smirking when I looked back. Right away my scowl appeared back and my defenses were high up again as I increased the distance between us, with me going inside the bathroom and her, staying unmoving on the bed.
---
When I was about to exit the door of her apartment, a hand reached out to mine and intertwined our fingers. As she pulled me back inside, she hugged one of my arms as I looked at my watch to show her my exasperation over the limited time I had left.
“When are you coming back?” She almost whispered to me. Her other hand not hugging my arm was slung around my neck and it brought our faces together.
Again, I looked everywhere else except her eyes, which were my kryptonite.
“I don’t know? I’ll text you.” I said in a final tone and immediately, her hold on me loosened. I checked my watch again and was about to mutter a goodbye when I felt a hand pressing over my chest and her lips, again, brushing ever so softly against mine. It had the power to stop the time and take all my brain cells out. It was like having an Alzheimer’s attack, really.
I shook my head slightly as I came back to my senses and immediately went for the door. As I took a few steps forward, my ears rung and I almost stopped on my tracks to turn back.
“I love you”.
It was a melody carried by the wind.
I pretended like I heard nothing and continued walking away from her. As of that moment, I knew, I have messed up some of the characters in my story, and I have no idea how to fix them.
The pen on my right hand fell with an echoing clink to the ground.
---
Guessing who the other character is won't be laborious work, would it?
---
You know how while you’re just goofing around facebook, some wise ass person decides to make a meme about life and its hardship? And it would be really inevitable to see since that person had made sure to make it really pretty so that it would get many hits and through this maybe s/he could get famous. But you don’t really care all about that shit since as soon as you read whatever is written, your mood automatically drags down and it makes you think about your own life. About life in general, how it could really be so cruel as to make people write about it in songs, poems, stories, and contemporarily, in memes.
It almost makes you skeptic about life but since you know you have control over your own, you decide that you won’t let it carry you. You decide to make your own waves and those will constitute up as your life, not the other way around.
You decide to make your own fairytale and be the perfect protagonist that you are. Because you think you can, because you believe you can. You trash away all those memes, all those songs, all those stories and make a huge placard to hang onto your brain: I make my own flow.
And ever since then, everything goes smoothly according to your plan, because you have the drive to make almost all things possible. You didn’t just stand there and watch; you moved, you sweated, you patiently waited, and you did all of these things because you know the results would make you happy. You felt extraordinary, you felt perfect.
Until one day karma turns its wheels to work and you woke up, life being the meanest bitch you’ve ever seen.
---
I woke up, for real this time, and the person beside me wasn’t the meanest bitch I’ve ever seen. In fact she was an angel, the angel, my angel, and I almost laughed at the thought of everything being so ironic; how this someone, instead of bringing light into my life, actually makes it murkier.
Funny how everything came so natural and comfortable now. I don’t wake up anymore feeling anxious that her arms are around my waist, and we’re practically skin against skin. I don’t get that weird feeling in my gut anymore whenever I stand up to pick articles of clothing on the floor, with her eyes glued on to me, not sure if because of appreciation or condemnation, either way I was supposed to get goosebumps but now even that I’ve gotten rid of.
And it was one of those days, I wasn’t surprised anymore, to sigh deeply as if to prepare myself before she wakes up, making sure everything’s intact and normal. I knew before that I was writing my own fairytale, but nowadays, I’ve been reduced to only think that I still am, even though Im not completely sure about anything anymore.
It’s one of the biggest frustrations of a writer you know, to be writing a story, but when he takes a break to lean back on his chair, he finds out he’s writing a completely different one than what he had intended it to be. Only life isn’t just a story. You can’t just crumple the papers, pretend you’re Kobe, and shoot all the shitty parts of what you’ve written down in the bin. Everything that happened-happened, and you can’t just go on living forward without taking a step back, thinking, if you really did the right thing or not.
I guess I was too immersed in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the other girl on the bed waking up, shifting closer towards me, until I felt the moisture of her breaths against the back of my ear.
“Hey sexy.” She said, in her most seductive voice. It would’ve been a turn on, but it was morning and im not really the type to start the day with a very laborious work.
Not hearing any response, she latched her lips on my nape and starting sucking on one part passionately, one of her hands also moving rhythmically against my abdomen.
I swatted her hand away and moved towards the edge of the bed to continue my sleep, or at least to wait until she stops whatever it is that she was thinking and get out of bed.
“Wow. Someone’s playing hard to get here, as always.”
I felt the bed shift and I thought she would get up to leave like she always does. But to my dismay, my part of the mattress dipped lower as she kneeled her way towards me only to crouch and take a peek of my face as I kept an indifferent expression. Deep inside me, I cringed; for the feel of her hands on my shoulder was burning, and I’m too scared to admit it to myself hence the external nonchalance.
She decided to push my shoulder back down, as I was lying on my side with my back against her, so that I would be in the normal sleeping position, after realizing that towering over my face and making funny faces won’t give her the reaction she wanted.
I immediately frowned at her as she hovered over me.
“Yuri-ah~” She said cutely, my defenses almost crumbled down.
I glared at her, letting her know that I wasn’t too happy with what she did and what she’s doing now, but like always, she would just giggle at it with that high-pitched voice of her.
I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but I hate her giggles, I hate them so freakin’ much. They remind me of dandelions and sunflowers and being in a white dress jovially skipping through the said pollen-infested field. I hated them so freakin’ much because im not supposed to feel this way. Im supposed to hate them with all my guts but I don’t so I hate them.
They remind me that there is something wrong with this story im writing.
“Come on, don’t look so despondent, it’s still early in the morning!” She said with such energy that for a second a friend of mine called Sunny passed through my thoughts.
I still kept the scowl on my face as I looked at her forehead and that’s when she decided to go to her plan B. Plan B consisted of pinching my cheeks as wide as possible that I’m pretty sure I looked stupid to her. Whatever glint of happiness or enjoyment she has on her eyes, I didn’t see, for I avoided them like the plague. Looking into her eyes always stirs up things inside me, and I never liked it whenever that happened. I had no choice but to look at her forehead, looking at her nose would only make me look lower and it might give her the impression I most certainly don’t want to give.
When she was done playing with my cheeks, she placed them back and tapped them a few times as if to make sure they were still intact. A few seconds have passed and she didn’t take her hands off my cheeks, that was when I realized she was cupping them.
I accidentally looked into her eyes because of my confusion over her silence and that move most certainly was the one which shot the arrow to my knee. I was defenseless and vulnerable when she leaned in to place her lips against mine. Unlike last night’s, her kiss this morning was gentle and almost floating, it felt like Yoona tickling my lips with a feather trying to wake me up.
It also didn’t last long, there wasn’t any hunger or lust or crave over that kiss and it took me by surprise. When I was too paralyzed to move or say something for I was still lost in her orbs, she cupped my cheeks again and giggled.
Ugh. That giggle.
“You better hurry up, baby, unless you wanna be late for work.” A sweet smile lingered on her face and I was paying all my attention to that when I realized her point.
I suddenly snapped my neck to the wall where the clock hung and saw I only had 30 minutes tops.
I jolted out of bed and was immediately sorry for I have thrown her off me in the process, only to find her smirking when I looked back. Right away my scowl appeared back and my defenses were high up again as I increased the distance between us, with me going inside the bathroom and her, staying unmoving on the bed.
---
When I was about to exit the door of her apartment, a hand reached out to mine and intertwined our fingers. As she pulled me back inside, she hugged one of my arms as I looked at my watch to show her my exasperation over the limited time I had left.
“When are you coming back?” She almost whispered to me. Her other hand not hugging my arm was slung around my neck and it brought our faces together.
Again, I looked everywhere else except her eyes, which were my kryptonite.
“I don’t know? I’ll text you.” I said in a final tone and immediately, her hold on me loosened. I checked my watch again and was about to mutter a goodbye when I felt a hand pressing over my chest and her lips, again, brushing ever so softly against mine. It had the power to stop the time and take all my brain cells out. It was like having an Alzheimer’s attack, really.
I shook my head slightly as I came back to my senses and immediately went for the door. As I took a few steps forward, my ears rung and I almost stopped on my tracks to turn back.
“I love you”.
It was a melody carried by the wind.
I pretended like I heard nothing and continued walking away from her. As of that moment, I knew, I have messed up some of the characters in my story, and I have no idea how to fix them.
The pen on my right hand fell with an echoing clink to the ground.
---
Guessing who the other character is won't be laborious work, would it?