These Paper Pages

You || various ship drabbles

i. Limerence

The state of being infatuated with someone.

It was the first brush of their skin, the first time their eyes come into contact, it was the rising warmth in her chest when thoughts of him intrude her mind. She didn't know when it started, this painful tightening of her chest and the frightening blush gracing her cheeks whenever he was in her direct line of vision. Elaine pressed her palms against her cheeks, this budding attraction was becoming a pain. It was hard to be near him, hard to hold his gaze without butterflies fluttering inside her stomach, without a lump forming in her throat that causes her to stutter and fumble over her words.

Because he is a star and she is but a person admiring the night sky, they will never see eye to eye.

Her chest hurts, lungs burning with every heave of breath she takes as she attempts to fill her lungs with oxygen. Elaine hunches over the sink of her bathroom, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. Petals of red roses and daffodils spills from her lips, blood mixing with it. She runs the tap, washing away the traces of blood mixing and turning into tendrils of sanguine liquid along with the petals. She rubs the residue of blood clinging to the corner of her bottom lip, fear gripping her as she stares at the remaining traces on her finger. These feelings she has for him, they are killing her. This is something she cannot fix with her ability. Elaine stares at the pristine white sink, the traces of blood now swept into the drain.

He was oh so beautiful, a star glowing brighter than the rest that peppers the evening skies. He was beyond her reach, he is untouchable. She can only hope for the star to glance her way and sweep her off her feet. And burn away these flowers filling her very lungs.

ii. Kalopsia

The delusion of things being more beautiful than they are.

Her hands trace the sleek frame of the photograph which held happier days; sun-kissed skin, sunny smiles, their hands intertwined; light catching their hair, tinting pink and yellow in hues of orange. The corners of her lips twitches as she tries to withhold the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

They looked so pretty. So, so pretty in picture frames, in selective memories, in the eyes of curious people. In her eyes. A perfect match, a happy couple. It was far from the truth.

Like the violent waters of a stormy sea, their relationship was beyond calm and happy. Anger burns their skin, fills their lungs, clouds their minds with fire and smoke. Sorrow and confusion cackles like lightning as it pierces the skies accompanied by thunderous voices as it breaks with emotions. It was walking on a tightrope made of thorns, hanging over high cliffs and jagged rocks. And they lost their balance.

Her tears drop, falling like rain against the window pane, splattering on the picture frame. They were unhappy, and so she had to walk away -- they had to walk away because it was only hurting them. He wasn't happy with her, she couldn't give him what he wanted. Arlo is a pillar, shouldering the weight of what society expects of him. He is unbending, stubborn, he plays by the rules; she was his opposite. Free-spirited, Remi embraces the changes and refuses to have her life dictated by others.

But she loves him nonetheless. Her body convulses and the picture frame drops from her hands as she covers her lips with both hands. Flower petals escapes her lips. She still loved him, but he had long moved on.

iii. Anagapesis

No longer feeling any affection for someone you once loved.

His words were sharp like razor, tearing strips from his heart. There's sadness in John's eyes, one he couldn't wrap his fingers around, but maybe it was the aching in his chest and shallow breaths that was making it harder to comprehend the situation. The setting sun cast shadows on his face, raven hair catching the dying light of the sun as it sinks behind him.

"I'm sorry..." John whispers.

Apologies mend freshly opened wounds. Arlo's jaw clenches, his hands balling into fists as he clutches the ring he had in his pocket. He wanted to yell, grab the raven-haired male by the shoulder, shake him, and yell. He couldn't. He couldn't bear the sight of him; the way his shoulders hunch, the way his honey-gold eyes avert their gaze, the way the tears were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

"There's nothing I can do about it if that's how you feel." There was nothing more Arlo could say.

He turns away, his pace brisk as he walks away from him. He can't force John to love him, he can't turn back the clock and go back to how it used to be. The wind burns his tear-glossed eyes. And the flowers bloom in his lungs. 

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these were old. like a year or something year old writing, but i just wanted to share this with you. do you think i should extend some of these into one-shots?