Love, Unrequited | ✓

e p i l o g u e

[also, one shot entry for Tallara's amazing story, the 12th kiss.]

I wait.

He said he would meet me at five. It's half past seven now, and there is no sign of him.

The thought that someone is making a fool of me creeps into my mind again. I push it back into my mind. I have other things to think about.

Suddenly, I see him.

He is running towards me, clutching something in his hand. No doubt it's my book.

He slows down as he reaches me and stops a feet away from me. My fingers start to shake. I am having difficulty breathing.

He straightens up, his hair whipped to the side due to all the running. Just the way I like it.

"You're late," I say.

"Yeah," he looks at me, his eyes distant. "I had a date."

I stare at him silently, holding it all together. I will not cry, not here, in front of him.

"Oh," I avoid his eye. "You could have told me. I've been waiting."

"Sorry."

I blink away the tears. He is gone; my friend is gone. I ruined everything.

He hands over the book to me, looking down. "Here it is."

I take it and a silent tear betrays me. I wipe it away hastily but he doesn't miss it. He takes a step forward but then stops himself. Another tear escapes.

"Don't cry, please," he says, but I feel no emotion behind it. "I didn't mean to read it but then I realized it was about me...I'm sorry."

"I can't be friends with you," I look away from him.

"I understand," he sighs. I close my eyes to stop my tears and then open them again. "I—I just want to say something, may I?"

I nod.

"The shitty thing about love is that you can fall in love with someone, but that someone isn't obligated to fall for you, too," he says. "I'm sorry I can't love you back and I know how you're feeling right now because I've been through the same. It's some kind of a miracle that she loves me back now. What I'm trying to say is that it isn't the easy for everyone. You'll find your miracle too."

His arms are around me and I surrender to them, believing it to be the last time I would feel their warmth. "I love you," I whisper into his chest.

"I know," he whispers back. "I'm sorry I can't say it back."

We pull out of each others embrace after a while. We stare at each other in silence. No matter what, I think, I don't want this to end on a bad note.

"Goodbye," I say.

"Goodbye," he nods.

We exchange one last smile, and I fit it in my mind. I turn around, clutching the book to my chest and walk away. Away from him, from the girl who used to love him. Every step is a torture, a spear straight through my heart.

It's over and I don't intend on looking back at it.