(no subject)
This is my first dabble in short fiction, so please bare with me here. And since I'm not in that Deadly Passions place, this is just something I started writing for the hell of it. Anyway.
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le plus doux au revoir
[ sweetest goodbye ]
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Her heart was a mystery to him.
It had been for the entire year they'd been friends; and just as long the entire time they were dating. He walked down the cold street, his hands buried in the deep pockets of his winter coat, a Bailey hanging from his lips loosely. He sighed heavily, reaching up to pluck the fag from his lips; his cold breath was visible in the harsh breeze of the night. Turning his head a bit, he saw couples in full splendor walking hand in hand, cooing to each other in only the way lovers do. He scoffed some, taking another drag on his smoke, flicking the ashes to his feet and continued walking past without anymore acknowledgement.
She wanted him but didn't. Did that make sense? It didn't to him, which honestly was more than a bit frustrating. With his middle finger, he flicked the butt of the fag into the gutter just after taking the last drag. Once it was down the sewer and off to God knew where, he let out the smoke through his nose that he'd been holding. His thoughts were all over the map this night, he couldn't contend with her memory and it was driving him crazy. Crazier? He sighed again, burying his hands in his pockets again. For months, she let her insecurities get the best of her; she told him many times that she didn't care what people said about their relationship, but in reality it was all she could think about. Or talk about. Many times, just before they went to sleep, she often wondered what this one thought or that one. He bit his gentlemans tongue more than once, just to keep the peace.
This was his nature; the persona that was carved out for him. One of her biggest worries had been their age difference. Many times in his life, he'd heard that age meant nothing if you love each other. Which was rubbish in his mind at this standstill in his life. He snickered to himself; many of their arguements had transpired to that one case of point. If he could change his age, he would've gladly done it. He loved her and his age nor hers meant much of a shit to him. It got to the point, she was safer talking to him on the phone than being near him. She was afraid of him to touch her and a kiss outside a peck was out of the question. A noise caught his ear and he turned to see a young teenage couple; but before the reality could strike him and cause more feelings of morose, he kept walking; closing his eyes for the briefest of moments to block that vision out. He loved her so deeply, God knew he did. He would've given her anything and everything that was in his power to do. She let her insecurities scare her; let her own fear of being judged push him away. The harder and harder she pushed, the worse it hurt. The more she blocked him out of her heart, the more jaded and painful it became for him to live through day after day.
But no more. He could take no more.
"Au revoir, my love," he whispered in soft French and with a heavy sigh, pulled his cigarette pack out of his pocket.
[ Fin ]
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Thats it. I really suck at this.