her heart didn't hurt when she saw him with that other girl, playing with her hair or whispering in her ear. she'd seen that sight a million times. it stung when he captured her gaze in the hall and his eyes were full of apologies which never reached his lips. it burned when he walked past her and she caught the scent that never quite left her pillows. and it killed her, all those little accidents where his hand or arm would brush against hers in class or in the hall and she had to pretend like it didn't light up her entire body.
his heart just felt tired.
