she left before I had the chance to say
Title: Wrong
Prompt: #20, "Wait!"
Canon: Pre-Anime
Rating: PG
Length: 600 words
Summary: There was nothing Touya could say, so he said nothing.
Her little speech was too perfect to be anything but rehearsed. She had practiced. She had practiced, which meant she knew she was going to do it. Each word had been chosen to splinter his heart in the most efficient way possible.
The sweet tones of her voice contradicted what she was saying. The intimate way she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, placing her hand against his cheek, had nothing to do with goodbye. It was cruel, and she had to know that.
Hundreds of times before they had stood under this tree. Now she was taking those memories and crushing them, along with his heart, all while telling him how much those times meant to her, how happy she had been, how much she had loved him.
Then why was she leaving?
Just last night she had kissed him as she whispered erotic promises into his mind. Just last night she had laughed as she pulled him down on top of her, opened her mouth wide against his neck as her fingernails clawed his back, lain in his arms as she wished the night would never end.
Now everything was different, and she was walking away.
“Wait!”
Even though he had called to her, he was surprised when she stopped and turned around, looking back at him as he stood helpless beneath their tree.
This was the moment where he was supposed to say something she would never forget, something to convince her that this was all a mistake, to make her regret what she was doing, to make her change her mind.
A fifteen-year-old boy wasn’t capable of that sort of spontaneous, piercing retort. Not when his heart was lying broken on the ground, somewhere beneath her feet.
“Kaho….”
No other words would come. It was like one of those nightmares where he was frozen in place, arm stubbornly remaining at his side when he tried to reach out, desperate to scream but unable to make a single sound, shivering with the chill of losing her. The warm glow of the tree’s energy wasn’t enough to comfort him, not without her beside him.
Yesterday she had loved him. Maybe even this morning, this afternoon, she had loved him. Now she didn’t.
For reasons he might never understand, she had decided to go. How he felt about it didn’t matter.
Nothing he could say would make a difference. It had always been that way.
All throughout her speech she had smiled at him, but before she turned away again, he thought he saw that smile waver.
One of the things he both loved and hated about her was her need to be right. Everything she said was said with confidence and condescension. She would not accept that anything could ever be other than what it was. Things were inevitable, she explained time and time again.
Even in her meticulously worded speech, she had spoken of things yet to be that had to be.
He was determined to prove her wrong. It was a childish reaction, but it was all he had left. For once, he wanted to be right, and for her to admit that she’d been wrong.
Nothing had to happen the way she said it would. Nothing was inevitable. He would make her see that.
Her pretty declaration about being friends and finding someone new to love was only a consolation prize. He didn’t want to be just friends. He didn’t want someone else. He never would.
If only to spite her, to show her that she didn’t know everything, he never would.
Prompt: #20, "Wait!"
Canon: Pre-Anime
Rating: PG
Length: 600 words
Summary: There was nothing Touya could say, so he said nothing.
Her little speech was too perfect to be anything but rehearsed. She had practiced. She had practiced, which meant she knew she was going to do it. Each word had been chosen to splinter his heart in the most efficient way possible.
The sweet tones of her voice contradicted what she was saying. The intimate way she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, placing her hand against his cheek, had nothing to do with goodbye. It was cruel, and she had to know that.
Hundreds of times before they had stood under this tree. Now she was taking those memories and crushing them, along with his heart, all while telling him how much those times meant to her, how happy she had been, how much she had loved him.
Then why was she leaving?
Just last night she had kissed him as she whispered erotic promises into his mind. Just last night she had laughed as she pulled him down on top of her, opened her mouth wide against his neck as her fingernails clawed his back, lain in his arms as she wished the night would never end.
Now everything was different, and she was walking away.
“Wait!”
Even though he had called to her, he was surprised when she stopped and turned around, looking back at him as he stood helpless beneath their tree.
This was the moment where he was supposed to say something she would never forget, something to convince her that this was all a mistake, to make her regret what she was doing, to make her change her mind.
A fifteen-year-old boy wasn’t capable of that sort of spontaneous, piercing retort. Not when his heart was lying broken on the ground, somewhere beneath her feet.
“Kaho….”
No other words would come. It was like one of those nightmares where he was frozen in place, arm stubbornly remaining at his side when he tried to reach out, desperate to scream but unable to make a single sound, shivering with the chill of losing her. The warm glow of the tree’s energy wasn’t enough to comfort him, not without her beside him.
Yesterday she had loved him. Maybe even this morning, this afternoon, she had loved him. Now she didn’t.
For reasons he might never understand, she had decided to go. How he felt about it didn’t matter.
Nothing he could say would make a difference. It had always been that way.
All throughout her speech she had smiled at him, but before she turned away again, he thought he saw that smile waver.
One of the things he both loved and hated about her was her need to be right. Everything she said was said with confidence and condescension. She would not accept that anything could ever be other than what it was. Things were inevitable, she explained time and time again.
Even in her meticulously worded speech, she had spoken of things yet to be that had to be.
He was determined to prove her wrong. It was a childish reaction, but it was all he had left. For once, he wanted to be right, and for her to admit that she’d been wrong.
Nothing had to happen the way she said it would. Nothing was inevitable. He would make her see that.
Her pretty declaration about being friends and finding someone new to love was only a consolation prize. He didn’t want to be just friends. He didn’t want someone else. He never would.
If only to spite her, to show her that she didn’t know everything, he never would.