⌠ 1 ⌡
The tiniest amount of hope
resurfaces
sometimes.
A bubble,
fragile,
soft.
A transparent
layer of soap.
Posing as
permanence.
Careful,
it can fly away.
Float away through the vast sky.
It can pop
from a soft breeze.
The thin outline.
Bursting into
nothing.
An instant.
But
even after all I've done,
I just want to
feel
wanted.
Am I just
selfish?
⌠ 2 ⌡
These days feel the same.
The sky's always so bright.
Clouds hover close,
smoke trails passing through.
Settling into
another comfortable rhythm.
The breeze feels a bit colder lately.
Takanashi's already by the tree.
Somehow,
she's always there first.
I never ask why.
I sit next to her, pulling my novel out.
She goes on about something
the moment I'm there.
I pretend to listen.
But her brash voice
is somehow soothing.
"Sakai, I owe you one."
"Hm?"
"You weren't listening huh?"
"Um..."
I rest my book on my lap, and stretch.
"Is this about Takeshi?"
"Yeah. Did you guess?"
"What? No. I was definitely listening."
YOU ARE READING
wingman | Cell Phone Novel
RomanceSakai Keichi has always been the wingman, the shadow helping his best friend chase girls in an empty cycle of double dates and practiced smiles. He lets himself fade into the background. Until he meets a girl who smells of rain, and for the first t...
