Facade

27|| drunken love

song : I miss you, I'm sorry (slowed) - Gracie
Abrams

~ Gabriel ~

Feelings are the one thing about living that I resent most in the world.

Truly, there is nothing I despise more than feelings. That especially goes for the one that I'm being plagued with right now.

It's this never ending pressure in my chest, the sensation acting to prevent the organ in it from properly working. The restriction is constant, no matter what the fuck I'm doing, and I know exactly why it's happening.

It's the fucking sky.

I mean really, on a completely sunny day, there were still so many clouds. Those white, fluffy ones that make different shapes every time you look at them. They distract from the light of the sun, reminding us that a sunny day can never just be.

There will always be clouds that follow.

Even now, far after the sun has gone down and the dim glimmer of the moonlight shines in it's place, there are still those dark shadows of grey scattered around the sky.

The clouds just won't float to another place in the world, not even in the city.

They always follow.

Of course, if I was to say that with a certain curly haired nuance around, she'd probably call me a soulless asshole.

She'd whine about how the clouds are what bring the sky definition.

She'd have that admiring look in those pretty, brown eyes of hers as she looked up, letting herself be taken by the fluffy, floating clusters.

I look up at the sky from the open ledge of the balcony, ignoring the vibrations of the club I've been trapped in, only a few blocks from home.

A few blocks from her.

Looking down at my hand clutching the neck of the same bottle of vodka that I've yet to open all night, I take one more glance at the stupid sky before finally screwing off the cap and taking my first sip.

This is gonna be a long night.

~ Alejandra ~

Feelings suck.

I hate them, all of them.

Especially.. Whatever this one is. Whichever one is a blend of all the emotions, thoughts and bullshit that no one wants to feel.

Anger, self blame, embarrassment and most of all, hurt.

They all stem from one thing, one person, making it impossible to think of anything else.

I thought we were getting somewhere -Gabriel and I- but, every single time he acts even half way decent, he fucks it up.

He really, truly, royally fucks it up.

I mean, in retrospect, I deserve it. What the fuck did I expect right? Did I truly expect there to be a soul behind those cold, captivating hazel eyes?

I hate that.

I hate him.

I hate him for a multitude of reasons, but the one at the forefront of my mind right now is the fact that the dickhead doesn't even have the decency to explain it to me.

Or talk to me.

Or fucking look at me.

Since that psych period when he told me that he wants nothing to do with me, he's been back at the farthest end of the desk, packing up before the bell and once it rings, he bolts.