Moonshine

If Far is Better, Then I Am On My Way

Did he assume she liked him? She turned away when he tried to kiss her.

But damn, wasn't she smooth with her words? There was this guy—someone he recognized by face—who had shown interest in her while they were together, and her first reaction was, "Why would I want to talk to him? He's not you."

Yeah, maybe he wasn't imagining things. She was just someone who was aloof, not easily swayed by anyone.

Oh, but goddamn, when she did kiss him... it was like she carried secrets as deep as the ocean and as far away as the moon—so distant, yet so intense, dark and bright all at once.

He craved to unravel those secrets. He wanted her in his arms, to tear away whatever she was hiding. What could have happened if they had just let it all go? But here he was, stuck in this mess he'd made for himself. Saying he didn't care, acting like he was above it all. But he did care. And that's what made it worse.

He knew it meant more to her than it did to him. He was the one who would break her heart, not the other way around. He didn't want to commit—he was terrified of how open she was, how she just laid herself bare. She was a storm, a contradiction, everything that should be kept at arm's length. But he couldn't help himself. She was a fucking sin, and she didn't even realize it.

But here he was, about to be selfish as hell, calling her at 2 AM just because he was lonely and fucked up. He knew exactly what he was doing—using her feelings, taking advantage of the way she cared about him.

"Why don't you touch me? Why won't you touch me physically, but you've touched my mind and my heart? How the fuck did you do that?" he wanted to scream. How did she mess him up so completely, without even trying?

She got under his skin in ways no one else ever had. He was unraveling, torn between wanting to claim her and tear her walls down and hating himself for it. How could she be so careful, so protective, and yet still show him so much raw emotion? Maybe that was the fucking difference between them—she was real, and he was the one hiding.

But it frustrated him. He had asked her what she wanted, and she said she didn't know. And maybe that was the truth. Maybe that was the only real thing in all this mess. Because she was fucking real.

He saw the confusion in her eyes. But yeah, how dare he ask her what she wanted, when he didn't even know what he wanted himself? When he was the one who cut things off before they could even begin?

He was just being selfish.

He didn't even...