The Truth About the Girl With the Broken Smile [Ouran Host Club] (Editing)

The Truth About the Girl With the Broken Smile [Ouran Host Club]

                I pressed the palm of my hand to my cheek and sighed.

The reflective surface held my figure.

My face seemed to be stuck in a permanent frown.

What’s this?

What have I become?

                I remember the last words she ever spoke to me.

Seconds before the accident.

“I hate you!”

I.

Hate.

You.

I shook my head.

“I love you, too.”

I thought back.

Why didn’t I say those words out loud?

                A tear caught the corner of my right eye. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. None of this felt real. The crowded hallways, the marble floor, the yellow fluffy uniforms. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t.

                “Miss Valentine.” A man in a blue suit called. He hugged a clipboard to his chest, flashing me a slanted smile. I smiled back, bringing myself to my feet. “Right this way.” He said gesturing to a tall door. All I could think to do was nod.

                Familiarity licked at my skin, sinking into the pit of my stomach. Japan.

Ouran High School.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?