This is the sequel of Heartbreak Weather.
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❝ some days, i feel nothing at all.
and some days, i feel everything.
honestly, i don't know what's worse :
drowning beneath the waves ;
or dying from the thirst? ❞
• ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ •
Not al...
Your words, which used to be as sugary as the lemon glaze you loved so much on your cakes, have started to become rougher. More coarse. I feel like I am back to talking with the Elaine with whom I had collided in the middle of the school hallway. Why did you change? Why? Why? I had taken so much time curating you, creating you, just so that you could be tailor-made for me. I think I get why Allison could never take your place, even though I like her so very much.
You were just so deliciously malleable, Elaine. My marvellous marionette.
But now you're on your own, not much caring to suit yourself to my desires. It pains me, pains me so deeply—we were so perfect for each other, what happened to us?
I remember the day. A nameless guy was flirting with you. You were wearing your favourite short skirt and that lip gloss you wore so often which I had tasted so deeply even on the night we kissed. I wanted to snatch you from him, put my arms around your waist, kiss your neck—right in front of that guy. But you, you, when you had seen me from the corner of your eye, instantly rushing to me and explaining that there was nothing going on between you two. That you didn't care a zilch about him. "We are just friends. Just talking," You had said.
"A friend wouldn't look at you like that," I had replied. I knew because that's the way I looked at you.
You had spent the rest of the day convincing me that you had abandoned your flirty days. I had listened to you, a smile of triumph on my face. But why? Because you had left that guy behind all alone, nameless and forgotten.
And I think I now know what that guy felt, because that's exactly what you did to me today.
I had shirked my practice for you. We were talking as usual, with me trying to get you back to me, little by little, when we were interrupted—rudely might I add—and instead of snapping at the interrupter, like you'd have done in the past, you let out a gleeful smile and threw your arms around him instead.
"Zion! You're finally done with practice!"
"Yeah," He smiled. That stoic fucking man smiled at you, like you were the rarest flower in the field, blooming. "You done here? Said you wanted to hit the mall, right?" He jingled his keys. "I got you. Let's go."
"Look at you. Under all that cold, gloomy interior, you're actually quite a teddy bear, aren't you?"
"God," He laughed. "You're so cringe, El."
El. He had a nickname for you. Fuck me.
You turned to me. My heart sank. "I will talk to you later, okay Kay?" You said, my nickname falling from your mouth like leaves fall from trees in autumn. Natural and normal. Nothing special at all.
Zion wraps an arm around you, holding you to his side, and you don't notice it but I do—the look he gives me. One full of seething malice.
I hate him. I do. I wave you goodbye with a smile and kill him in my mind in a hundred different ways.
But there's nothing to worry about, is there? When he disappears from the picture... it's only natural that you'll turn back to me. My marvellous marionette. ____________________
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