He was handsome. He was charming. He had a wild side. He was everything she had been warned about.
But she still fell for him.
Hard.
They went out on many dates, each one managing to be better than the last. From dining at the city's most exclusive restaurant, to a moonlit picnic under the stars after a long motorbike ride. And their first kiss? It was magic. She felt sparks nipping at her, this kiss and the many that followed. Every touch? Little bursts of energy raced through her.
She thought he was the one. Wasn't that what those romance novels always said? Sparks came when you found your special someone.
So she gave everything she had to him. Her friend had warned her about him, but she paid no heed. Maybe it had only been two, nearly three weeks. Maybe she had planned on saving herself for marriage. But why would it matter anymore? He was the one, they were bound to get married anyway.
And that's when it started to all fall apart.
No more sweet nothings whispered in her ear. No more stolen kisses. No more... magic.
Just sex.
Desperately, she did all she could to stop her relationship from crumbling. She tried to make him stay after they had finished, but he never did. Just in her flat and right out again.
She had planned on giving him a suprise. His window was always unlocked, so she climbed in. After positioning herself on his bed, she waited. Waited for the key to twist. Waited for the footsteps to come.
But something was wrong.
He did not wear heels.
He did not have a high and breathy voice.
And when they burst into his room, half dressed and with clothes flying every where, she choked back a sob.
They turned, wearing matching expressions of disbelief, shock and lastly anger.
She didn't say a word.
Just picked herself up from his bed, kicked him as hard as she could, and slammed the door
The bang echoed through the flat.
As she walked away, his doubled-over silhouette caught her eye and a small smile graced her lips, before disappearing almost immediately.
Curling up on a vacant park bench, she cried. The rain pounded down around her, but she didn't care. The sound was strangely therapeutic.
How could she have been so blind? She was a simple lab researcher; brain overloaded with facts, glasses perched on her nose. Nothing at all like the other girl, who looked like she had stepped right out of a magazine.
The rain stopped falling above her head, just as a warm coat was draped across her shoulders. Looking up, she saw the red locks of her best friend, and his bony fingers clutching the umbrella above her.
She opened her mouth to apologize for all the times that she should've heeded his warnings, but he simply shook his head and stretched out his hand. Grasping it gratefully, they walked back to her flat, hand in hand.
A flame started in her when she held his hand, completely different from the sparks of her previous lover. It made her feel safe. Welcome. Content.
Because, in the end- the sparks never last. They come quickly, but they leave just as fast. It's that warm burn, that little flame that keeps on going.
Sparks can come without fire, but fire always has sparks. It also has that magic that keeps you intoxicated, but it is permanent. It stays forever.
And she knew, deep down, that fire would trump sparks anytime.
~O§O~
Hope that made sense!
Thank you for reading :) It was originally a Pokemon fanfiction, but I figured it would work alone as well.
'Til next time! ♥
[geeky-asian-ninja]
