happy endings are for fairy tales // kiani au

EIGHTEEN: WILL

is this book dead? obviously. is this going to stop me frm updating whenever i feel like tho nobody's gna read it? noPe

26 june 2016

by the time jordan's closed his eyes and gone to sleep, tears are already staining my cheeks, leaving a sticky trail on my skin. it isn't sadness, nor is it confusion or anger. i'm crying because my thoughts are swelling beyond the capacity of my brain, overspilling its misplaced thoughts and emotions through my eyes.

why did he kiss me? did he want it? did i want it? what about bianca? i've broken up with her, but how could i move on so easily? and with jordan? a fucking boy? unanswered questions trickle down my chin, left with nowhere else to go.

i might not know what's going on in my mind, and i may not know a single answer to anything. but one thing i do know is i want my lips on his skin again. just to get that feeling again, like i'm no longer on earth, like i've ceased to exists and everything is happy.

he barely even shifts when i leave a peck on his forehead after moving the chocolate brown hair covering the skin.

when did jordan have chocolate brown hair? am i going insane? i swear this is the first time i've noticed how pretty the colour of his hair is, or how it compliments the shape of his face perfectly. how long his eyelashes actually are. how his left eyelid is slightly larger than his right one.

it's just jordan things, i guess. one of the stupid facts i have now memorised about him.

why does that have a cynical tone to it now?

slowly, i pry off the arms that are around me and unwrap my legs from his body, slipping off the bed with subtle movements. he makes an almost unnoticeable sound, one's that between a whine and a cry. he looks like a rag doll tossed in the rough waters of the sea, unnatural and awkwardly placed without me cuddling with him.

i place his bolster next to him, move his arms to wrap around it, turn off the csgo game we forgot about, and then quietly make my exit through his backdoor, somehow feeling that if i go through the front door, someone would catch me and know. know that my lips are tingly and i've just walked through what i imagine to be the only heaven i'll ever go to. know that i just kissed jordan and it felt like everything that didn't make sense before, suddenly strangely have answers.

jesus fuck, i've just kissed jordan.

i walk back home, each step plummeting into the ground with the hard beating in my chest, as if the ground is collapsing below me. it's only 86 steps (jordan and i were once messing around and counted the exact number), but i want it to be longer. drag out the time i have to process this phenomenon, get the rid of the feeling on my lips before i'm tossed back into my reality with bianca.

it's about– what? 10 seconds maybe, before i'm already up in front of our door. i almost don't go in, diverting my gaze to the parked car and then back to the key in my hands. i push through anyway.

there isn't an answer. not even a sound. of course there isn't. why would there be? i dumped her. we broke up. this is what breakup feels like. empty. silent.

she hasn't left the room yet. it's 8 and she's probably sleeping, if she can even sleep well enough while trying to get through this stupid, stupid phenomenon. dating, falling in love, and breaking up. the walls of the house damn me for what i've done and i feel as if i'm being watched, cursed for every crime i've committed. i shiver.

i'm about to go to sleep on my sofa, saddled by the thoughts of what the hell i had just gone through. a change of clothes would be great right now, i think, anything to get rid of the smell of jordan's deodorant on me.

"b?" i knock on the door softly, "can i come in? i need my clothes."

silence.

"i won't look at you," i try again.

what the fuck did she think she was doing by ignoring me? i roll my eyes and knock a little harder.

silence.

"at least just pass me my shirt and shorts?"

silence.

and then there's that goddamned change. the one that makes my heart twist into a knot and fall into a bottomless pit. the twitch in atmosphere which frightens the living fuck out of me.

a drum strikes thunder in my ribcage. i scan the area. i'm alone, what the fuck could have changed about my surroundings? why is my gut wrenching in utter despair at something that just happened? my shoulders stiffen. my eyes fall on the door separating two dimensions apart.

something had happened in there.

it must have been.

the walls are caving in when my feet rush me towards the box of spare keys in the kitchen cupboard. creamy white and sandy yellow wall paint crash onto the floor as the house falls apart. where the fuck was the baby blue walls i had spent hours on end with? what the fuck had happened on the other side of that door?

tears have streaked my tears by the time i'm desperately gripping on that doorknob for dear life. the key shakes threateningly in my hand. but the lock is already loosened. the door was left unlocked.

a peer through the gap. that small tint of baby blue seems so normal – too fucking normal.

bianca doesn't say anything.

fuck, bianca hasn't said anything.

the door swings open. and i blank out.

i don't remember what i did next. i don't remember what i saw. all i remember is screaming, and screaming, and screaming. all i remember is hearing my own scream, being scared of it, and screaming even harder. that's all that's left, because ever since, i've tried to forget everything.

i could have forgotten everything. but i would never forget her eyes.

once the morning dew on grass during sunrise; the smell of bakeries; the sugar of green apples. now, mere windows to a soulless and empty mind, screaming..

"this is all your fault..

you're a fucking monster."