(no subject)
title: things have changed for me (and that's okay)
author: chartre
rating: g
pairing: ryo/erika
summary: she was sixteen when he first saw her; fell in love when she smiled at him, laughed sweetly when he spoke english during class recitation.
notes: fictional. hoping it also wasn't, because i find ryo/erika a totally cute het pairing all thanks to ryusei no kizuna because it has dawned on me. ♥ i love the dorama, and i'm going to watch it faithfully. ohyes.
Things Have Changed for Me (And That’s Okay)
ryoerika
He remembered her back in high school, girl with the beautiful smile, soft skin, pink lips. She was his school’s sweetheart, and everyone loved her. He loved her.
He remembered her just the way she was then and there: soft curls, yellow sundress and a jacket to match. She wore boots when he saw her again two years later, and she was alone, he had noticed. She smiled.
She was so beautiful.
“Long time no see,” she said, and he made the effort to smile back at her. “Long time no see,” he said, “How has it been?”
She shrugged, tilted her head a little to her right and tugged on the stray lock of hair plastered to her cheek. “Fine, just fine. Same old. And you?”
He shrugged too. “Okay, I suppose.” He was taking over his father’s business management. She was an apprentice in her uncle’s clinic.
“So,” she bit her lip, idly rolled her eyes a bit. The wind blew past, and she felt cold, rubbed her cheek for a moment there while he stifled his actions. “are you going out with anyone right now?”
He loved her.
She was sixteen when he first saw her; fell in love when she smiled at him, laughed sweetly when he spoke English during class recitation. He often said sorry to her for his uncharacteristic notions, and he somehow knew that she knew they were meant for her. He was just nervous; he was really like that: young, in love, careless.
She had just turned seventeen when he decided he’d finally tell her he liked her. There was peer pressure, but he never thought of it that way. He wanted to do it too, anyway. He really liked her, he really did.
“No, I’m not.” He laughed, thought it was bold of her to ask something like that out of two years. “I’m not going out with anyone right now.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” he said flatly.
He had thought about this before, some good and happy ending to come when the suspense was over, partly out of daydreaming and fantasy wishing, or something of the like, but things never really went the way as he wanted them to go as. These were always planned too well, he thought. His timing was just terrible.
She said no to him then, told him she wasn’t ready for anything even if he just wanted to say it. She just wasn’t interested, and pursuing something would just break his heart. She was afraid for him, but he already was afraid to begin with.
He apologized again. “Sorry,” he said, for the nth time hoping she wouldn’t be pissed off, and said sorry again for that, the latter. She laughed at him, how he’s rubbed his face out of the nervous habit, and she thinks that’s cute. He’s cute.
After graduation, they stopped seeing each other, like they did with all their other high school friends. “I’ve got my dreams to pursue in career, you know,” they said. They understood. They fell into that habit eventually, and it was hard to fall out of it already.
Two years later, they meet again. It was a bright Sunday morning, and no one had seen this coming.
Someone fell in love.
“I’ve missed you, you know,” she said shyly.
“Really?”
“Really.” She smiled beneath her modesty. “I mean, we haven’t seen each other for quite some time, too.”
“Oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck casually. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
For a moment, she thought she might have said too much too quickly.
“You know,” he spoke again, “I’ve been thinking quite some time about-”
“Would you like to discuss this over coffee?” she asked him. “I’ve got some time; I don’t have anywhere else to go, really.”
He remembered holding hands with her once on their way home, a casual scene between high school friends; nothing meant to be malicious or spiteful. But then he kissed her cheek on her way home, greeted her goodnight while she stared in dumbstruck stupor. All he did was smile and walk away into the dark of that night.
“That would be just wonderful.” He smiled at her again, joined her to the local café for coffee as planned, and then some. He unconsciously held her hand, and she felt the same way.
He loved her.
author: chartre
rating: g
pairing: ryo/erika
summary: she was sixteen when he first saw her; fell in love when she smiled at him, laughed sweetly when he spoke english during class recitation.
notes: fictional. hoping it also wasn't, because i find ryo/erika a totally cute het pairing all thanks to ryusei no kizuna because it has dawned on me. ♥ i love the dorama, and i'm going to watch it faithfully. ohyes.
Things Have Changed for Me (And That’s Okay)
ryoerika
He remembered her back in high school, girl with the beautiful smile, soft skin, pink lips. She was his school’s sweetheart, and everyone loved her. He loved her.
He remembered her just the way she was then and there: soft curls, yellow sundress and a jacket to match. She wore boots when he saw her again two years later, and she was alone, he had noticed. She smiled.
She was so beautiful.
“Long time no see,” she said, and he made the effort to smile back at her. “Long time no see,” he said, “How has it been?”
She shrugged, tilted her head a little to her right and tugged on the stray lock of hair plastered to her cheek. “Fine, just fine. Same old. And you?”
He shrugged too. “Okay, I suppose.” He was taking over his father’s business management. She was an apprentice in her uncle’s clinic.
“So,” she bit her lip, idly rolled her eyes a bit. The wind blew past, and she felt cold, rubbed her cheek for a moment there while he stifled his actions. “are you going out with anyone right now?”
He loved her.
She was sixteen when he first saw her; fell in love when she smiled at him, laughed sweetly when he spoke English during class recitation. He often said sorry to her for his uncharacteristic notions, and he somehow knew that she knew they were meant for her. He was just nervous; he was really like that: young, in love, careless.
She had just turned seventeen when he decided he’d finally tell her he liked her. There was peer pressure, but he never thought of it that way. He wanted to do it too, anyway. He really liked her, he really did.
“No, I’m not.” He laughed, thought it was bold of her to ask something like that out of two years. “I’m not going out with anyone right now.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” he said flatly.
He had thought about this before, some good and happy ending to come when the suspense was over, partly out of daydreaming and fantasy wishing, or something of the like, but things never really went the way as he wanted them to go as. These were always planned too well, he thought. His timing was just terrible.
She said no to him then, told him she wasn’t ready for anything even if he just wanted to say it. She just wasn’t interested, and pursuing something would just break his heart. She was afraid for him, but he already was afraid to begin with.
He apologized again. “Sorry,” he said, for the nth time hoping she wouldn’t be pissed off, and said sorry again for that, the latter. She laughed at him, how he’s rubbed his face out of the nervous habit, and she thinks that’s cute. He’s cute.
After graduation, they stopped seeing each other, like they did with all their other high school friends. “I’ve got my dreams to pursue in career, you know,” they said. They understood. They fell into that habit eventually, and it was hard to fall out of it already.
Two years later, they meet again. It was a bright Sunday morning, and no one had seen this coming.
Someone fell in love.
“I’ve missed you, you know,” she said shyly.
“Really?”
“Really.” She smiled beneath her modesty. “I mean, we haven’t seen each other for quite some time, too.”
“Oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck casually. “Yeah. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
For a moment, she thought she might have said too much too quickly.
“You know,” he spoke again, “I’ve been thinking quite some time about-”
“Would you like to discuss this over coffee?” she asked him. “I’ve got some time; I don’t have anywhere else to go, really.”
He remembered holding hands with her once on their way home, a casual scene between high school friends; nothing meant to be malicious or spiteful. But then he kissed her cheek on her way home, greeted her goodnight while she stared in dumbstruck stupor. All he did was smile and walk away into the dark of that night.
“That would be just wonderful.” He smiled at her again, joined her to the local café for coffee as planned, and then some. He unconsciously held her hand, and she felt the same way.
He loved her.