She cries, curled up into a tight ball of flesh and bones. Nails against skin, red and angry, tears flow freely, like the pouring rain.

And he sits there, not talking. The sky is a beautiful shade of red and blue and purple, he muses. He is probably the only thing not a mess in this room. Dark green eyes dart over the coiled figure upon the crumpled sheets.

Yeah, he is the only sane one around here.

The funny thing with this girl, is that she does not try to hide her face away from him. A face that is smeared with tear stains and red blotches, perfectly unattractive and observable, even though the rest of her is so hard pressed together hiding from the naked eyes. Don’t girls usually cover up their weeping from guys?

She has always been odd.

“I’ll be okay, you know.”

He turns away from the window and looks at her. The streams of salty water are not showing any signs of stopping soon, but her doll-like face is as detached as ever. He wonders absently, even when suffering she just refuses to be normal.

“I have no doubt you will be.” Shifting nonchalantly in his place next to her, he straightens his spine, leaning against the wall, “Though I must say, seeing you cry almost helplessly like this actually makes me feel relieved, knowing you’re still human enough.” He grins at her, charming as usual.

Ultramarine eyes meet his, cool and aloof, despite the red hot tears spilling from reddened sclera. She averts her eyes after a few seconds. He only stares.

“You’re unbelievably cruel, you know,” He says, attention entirely on her.

His voice is calm and casual. She does not respond, but the slight twitch of her fingers tell him all he needs to know. He continues.

“Calling me over like this, consoling that broken heart of yours.” He tilts his head, eyes still on her furled up body, “Sometimes I have to wonder, if I ever meant a thing to you. What happened today, seems to scream into my face that my love is never big enough for your greedy soul.”

The void that comes after is as heavy as the reality they are facing.

“Really. Sometimes I truly wish I was never your best friend. Better yet, that we never met.” He laughs, a light-hearted but sharp as knives sound, “Will I ever get away from your grasp?”

He watches, as she lays still then slowly unfurls herself. The silence that reigns the space is deafening. Hooded eyes follow every movement as she slowly, but firmly, sheds the foetus shell. Bent legs uncoiled, folded arms unravelled, squashed spine uncurled, she sits upright. When she raises her head to look at him, he is not surprised to see not a single tear left.

Dark green against ultramarine. Whispered words versus silent breath. And within her arms, a soft and pitied embrace, he thinks, broken hearts and best friends must be synonyms.

“Then, you and I, shall be broken together.”

 

Originally posted on Wonders About Writing.

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Published by Mary Thuy Tien - Wonders About Writing