the silence of loving someone but never telling them.
-discontinued but last chap can be read like an ending!
( childhood friends to lovers ) |real life + social media
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“Can't it just rain? The sun is disgustingly bright today”, Helena said, exhilarating pace on her feet. She was particularly moody this day — even the thought about meeting her new made acquaintance Amita the next day didn't lit up the grey clouds around her head.
There was something she wouldn't wanted to talk about with anyone but herself.
The Suman woman got her thinking: why should Freddy and herself, little boring Helena, go on a date? Why didn't they never dated? And where the bloody hell did Amita got that idea? It wasn't like the brunette man and herself were a item.
Sadly. She really wished they were. Yet they weren't and shewouldn't do the first step simply because Helena was scared of asking him out.
Mind games played over and over again; never letting herself getting a break, thinking about what could be, how lucky she possibly could get. No, the pictures alongside the many snarky comments her imagination made up told her that he wasn't interested in her, not in a slightest bit.
Which wasn't exactly the truth but she didn't know it — secret feelings and all that shit.
To not sensing the obvious movie cliché as an actress was kinda funny, wasn't it?
“Can't you just be greatful? It's not like we're getting much sun at this time of the year, dear”, the man who stole her every emotion of love replied sarcastically.
It was true indeed — early spring arrived with lots of clouds and a sea of tears, the rain and hers, yet the yellowish glowing planet decided to let its arms stretch out behind the soft pillow like walls here and there for a bit. Normally Helena would have loved the painting of Petrus ( the greek dude! ) but Freddy was the only thing, person who had her eyes. And he didn't realized it —how should he?
How could she get his heart? Easy enough she knew so much, too much in some cases, about him that the ideas were there however they weren't on display — the hid behind a high brick wall in her creativity department. Grappling a shovel and Helena shall dig in, huh? Nah, fantasy and reality were two completely different ways to work out — people emphasized in their element of fantasy like it was their kingdom dedicated to freedom and power will regardless of what followed next. On the other hand was reality — the base of everything. Without reality there wasn't fantasy or so thought the blonde woman.
To say things easy: life was reality and reality was hard at some stages of age.
Sighing, Hel faced the man opposite of the breakfast table: “Did you every fallen in love and hoped you could stop time to see each little detail over and over again? Never getting sick of it?”
Maybe the questions were straight up stupid — nevertheless she didn't regret it. After all she trusted him completely, heart and soul.
“I don't know how you changed the topic from weather to love but to answer your questions, my dearest, yes I am- was in love with this one girl. Oh bless her”, he stumbled upon his wording, overthinking carefully.
He wanted to scream I love you. You, you idiot but it wasn't the loveliest time nor a choice he wouldn't regret afterwards. She would laugh at his face.
“Really? How didn't I know that? I feel like such a bad friend now”, she bit her lips, gaze unfocused, “Anyway I'm glad you got to experience this exquisite feeling.”
A soft smile adored her pink lips and the sunset which shone into the kitchen made her features soft as well. Truly an angel.
His too — when Helena smiled Freddy had to do so too. It was like a copying mechanism.
Silence spread through the room until the woman stood up, walked with her plate to the sink.
“I've gotta go. See you later, cry baby.”
Smirking Hel put on her jacket and boots, ready to go as she said.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”, Helena wondered.
“Have you ever faced the consequence of loving hard?”, a sincere beam on his lips.
Standing with the back to him she blushed furiously.
“I have.”
Then she was gone and thousand interrogation points piled up in his brain.
