Paper Hearts.

prologue

Ashley

It all gets very suffocating. I mean, I used to love the way his presence would demand total dominance throughout the room, or the way his cocky demeanor would claim one's attention so easily. I loved how his eyes alone was enough to captivate me entirely, so completely. I used to find everything about him almost enchanting, inexplicable and surreal. Magical bliss.

But now it feels as if everyone and everything is trying to purposely mock me, taunt me. What once was thought of me to be alluring, now almost offending. As if his presence alone screamed guilt in my ears, and stirred an instant hammering in my chest. As if his presence alone flaunted what could have been mine, if I had not been such a fuck-up. As if his presence alone was a tidal wave, flooding and drowning me in my own thoughts and the memories that we shared but only I seem to remember.

Unbeknownst to him of myself, he walks in his usual way down the hall past the office without even a side glance as to why I was sitting in the damn nurse's office. The classic I'm-so-fucking-cool-look-how-slow-I-walk style. I can't blame him, I'm the one who made him this way. I can't recall him ever acting out like this; true, he always was a little nonchalant but not so much to be considered conceited.

But then again, lots of things have changed since that first meeting all those years ago - including myself. For the better, I hope. 

Quite astounding, really, my infatuation. Still intact and no less alive than even before, when surely even the mere thought of myself had not even surpassed his very mind. When all he does is consume mine, the notion is unrequited. A light giggle escapes my lips, the unfair manner this world is treating me seeming almost funny. I sit alone in the nurse's office, having been sent here against my will under the impression I have been unfortunate enough to experience a 'very serious' migraine.

"You're my paper heart," I remember him telling me.

"Did you hear what I said?" he repeats, grabbing my arm as I begin to turn away, refusing to meet his eyes. My heart is pounding and my ears are ringing. I frantically look around the grass and trees of his compound surrounding us, searching for anything but his eyes to focus on. If I focus on his eyes, my carefree-girl exterior would crack. 'He won't like me anymore if he thinks I'm easy. He has to think I don't care.' I silently tell myself and my fucked up mind. His hands slowly enclose mine, rubbing little circles on the flat of my palm. His fingertips move to the tip of my nose and he taps it once. "Listen to me," he quietly commands. "You're my paper heart, Ash. You always were," he whispers, scanning my face for any form of emotion.

I sigh. "You need to stop reminiscing, Ashley. He doesn't even care about you," I tell myself for the fifth time this week. With a hollow heart, I hop off the bed and take a few steps around the curtain to meet the nurse wearing red. I think I remember her telling me she goes by the name of Jo. "I think I'm ready to leave now, thanks," I tell her, giving her a small, crooked smile.

"Sure...Ashley, was it? I'd have to sign your planner. Remember to come back if you are experiencing any pain," she smiles and it's a genuine, caring smile but it hits me like a tidal wave. Do heartbreaks count? I plead silently. I muster up all my strength and plaster on a weak smile. "Really, thank you Jo, have a grand day," I exclaim.

She hands back my planner and I continue my day forcing myself not to think about the boy with the dark hair and light eyes.

We'll always just be paper hearts.