Once Upon A Lone Heart | ✔

Perfect

With loving eyes, he looks at you as you furiously write on your notepad the poem you just thought of before it fades away. Your fingers hurt, but in battles, you have to hurt. Even by only holding tight onto your weapon.

He looks at you and wonder at the world what in heavens is in your head. What colours do you see. What land are you in. You're too focused on your writing to notice him observing you- just like you were the very first time he noticed you.

"What are you writing?" He asks innocently, eyes brown and bright, strands of hair distracting your perfect view.

You gently push it back, your fingers tangled in the fluffiness of his tousled hair. "You." Your voice is a whisper carried by the wind. His goosebumps raise as he receives your reply.

"Thank you."

He didn't have to say it, he always knows that you always write about him. But being himself- his adorable, humble self- he said it anyway, with kisses in your face and "I love you"s on your skin.

Isn't he perfect? He is everything you've ever written. He's got perfect eyes, perfect touch, perfect words... there's no one to compare to. Not Hollywood celebrities. Not fictional characters.

As you pause to ponder, you realize, in a state of carelessness and absurdity, he is everything you've ever written.

What if he's not real? What if he's only him because that's who you want? What if he does the things he does because it's what you want? You look at him and wonder what in heavens is in his head.

"You're so perfect, do you know that?" You tell him, once again running your fingers through his thick, messy hair. You like the smell (manly and minty), and the texture and the colour. Yes. His hair is probably your favourite colour.

He smiles with his dimples and leans his head on your shoulder. "Aren't you, too?"

Your heart races and his heart becomes irregular. Four legs intertwined. Four hands everywhere.

"Have you been reading my book?" You ask him jokingly, twirling a small part of his hair on a finger.

He jolts up, surprised. You haven't seen that reaction in years. You laughed a little, amused by his facial expression, but he is serious. What is it?

As your eyes try to meet his, you notice he becomes translucent- he is fading away. The world wonder what in heavens are in your heads.

She knows.

What's happening to him?

His bright, brown eyes wither and all you can think of is a wilting flower, a faltering sunlight. His hair isn't brown anymore- it's clear.

"What is happening?"

"So you know."

They both say at the same time.

Your eyes get blurry from the tears, but with him fading, you can't help but feel sadder and more crushed, despite the desire to see him clear and real again.

"I love you. You know that? You wrote that I love you."

You can't feel his warmth anymore. You can't feel his irregular heartbeat.

"I love you,"

And he disappears.

"...more."

---

A/n: 12/03/17 sudden idea:

Concept: you're a writer, always romance, and then you meet a guy who is everything you ever needed, you ever wanted, you ever have written in your books.

But he isnt real. He is all in your head. But you dont know that.

And if you find out, he'll disappear, and you'll never find someone like him anymore. If you keep believing, he'll stay with you for as long.

Should i write an alternate ending?

Also, dedicated to my dear best friend  vanilla_coffee who sulked for an hour (or less) when I showed her the first draft of this story (and broke her heart several times more because of me). Thank you for always being my head, my wall and my gravity.

[23/03/17]