Behind Closed Eyes (Saulbert Oneshot)

My newest Saulbert one shot. This is a short story, not a book. But MIGHT turn it into a book if you bitches like it :) hehe

Sauli’s POV:

I unlock the front door and throw my laptop bag to the side, closing it behind me and falling against it, throwing my head back a few times.

Sometimes I hate my job.

I walk down the tiny hall of my small apartment, and into my lounge room. I lie down on the couch and stare up at the ceiling.

I only rent a small apartment, because the ones for sale, and reasonably close to work, are too big. I needed something small. The smaller it is, the less lonely I feel. But I still feel lonely none the less.

For 3 months now, that is all I’ve felt. 3 months since I packed my things and kissed him for the last time. 3 months since I truly smiled. 3 months of faking happiness.

I got a little happier when I started my show. But it doesn’t even compare to what I felt with him.

The way his lips moved in perfect sync with mine. The fireworks I could see behind closed eye lids. The butterflies moving in my stomach.

I close my eyes and my fingers run along my bottom lip at the memories.

The way his tongue swept along the same lip, before dipping in to meet mine. The way we would smile, lips still attached. Even if it was just a peck before leaving for work, it still felt magical. He made me believe in true love.

He was my true love.

His is my true love.

But now he’s gone. I see him a couple times a month if we’re not busy. We’re still friends. But now it’s almost been 4 months, and I haven’t seen him in the 4 weeks that make up the latest one.

He’s tried to call and text. But I ignore him now. I have to. It’s too painful.

I see the way he smiles. And I know he’s not faking his happiness. He’s fine, and he’ll find someone else one day. They’ll be happier together than we ever were. He’ll love him more than he loved me. If he even loved me at all.

I can’t tell anymore. I can’t tell if all the times he told me he loved me, he was telling me the truth or not. I just want him here with me. Holding me close and wiping away the tears that now leave my eyes, travelling down my pale cheeks.

My eyes remain closed, and I see him. I see him on the inside of my eye lids, taking away the darkness there. I see him smiling and laughing. And then I see us. Together. Happy. In love.

He’s holding me in his arms. We’re spinning, twirling, dancing. Back at our home. I guess it’s his home now though.

He leans down and kisses me. Pecking my lips over and over. We smile. So happy, so in love.

But I’m the only one who feels that now. I’m the only one who aches for him. Who cries himself to sleep every night because the bed is cold on his side. Not once has he even slept in the bed I now toss and turn in. Yet I can’t sleep on the side he would lie down on. I wish every night that he would climb into bed with me again.

That I could open my eyes and see him sleeping peacefully, or hear him sing downstairs while he cooked.

My eyes open swiftly, the sound of a knock at the door awakening me from my memories. I’m thankful and pissed off at the same time. I just want to remember him all the time, yet all I want to do is forget him.

I stand up, wiping away the tears and putting a fake smile on my face as I walked towards the door. I steady my shaking hands and open it, my smile immediately dropping.