Love 16: Turning and Leaving

You've always turned away from me...

Why?

Is it because you like me?

A beautiful shine was coming down that day, grazing the small and huge objects they were there to see. The path they walked on close to clear of the light, blocked by the shade of the trees. She turned to look at him as he walked, the light hitting his face in a perfect, untamable way that begged her to sit back and relax. Not even daring to think of holding back the urge, she leaned over and gently placed a kiss on his cheek, fingers sliding through his. He was shocked, and pulled his free hand away to grab his cheek, a dark blush covering his cheeks. She smiled and giggled like the child she was, and she was so unexplainably blissful because of his reaction. But that blissfulness came to an end after two or three steps as he wiped his cuff against his skin roughly. She looked at him in question, but he looked away, letting go of her hand.

You've never said you didn't like it!

But you've never said you DID either, I suppose...

Is it because you wouldn't be able to stand my crying face?

Red and blue revolved around one another, sirens echoing in the air. The bystanders watched as a woman was carried, fighting tooth and nail, away from her child. The girl stood there, tears running down her face. Why did it have to be her mother, of all things? "This isn't what I wanted…" She said through her cloudy tears. "When I became a detective this was never what I wanted!" A comforting hand lay on her shoulder. She turned around to see Inspector Megurie with a tired and regretful look drawn upon his features. She couldn't tell if that was his condolences towards her, or the simple look of a detective that's seen it all. Either way, she couldn't latch onto him. She would not allow it of herself. But then two more hands came about her shoulders, turning her around. One was tall and skinny with cute little freckles on his cheeks, and one was big, round one with a bald spot on the side of his head. They gave her a hug and she let herself return theirs. Then she saw them approaching. Her strawberry-blonde friend came to the side and patted her on the back, looking sorrowfully at the police cars. "I don't know why this has happened…" she spoke in her soft voice. "You have done nothing to deserve this."

She nodded and gulped, allowing her arms to come around her. She returned the hug once more. Pulling away, her eyes then landed on him, and her knees felt weak. She stumbled over to him, tear stains on her cheeks, hair messed up, and her cheeks red as fire. He stared at her. He stared at her with a sorry look on his face. He would never say it was his fault, for her mother was the one who committed the crime, but he would say he felt bad about it being him to crack the case. It could have been somebody else, but it had to be him. She shook her head before falling into him, clutching his shirt ever-so-tightly. She cried his name, silently begging for affection at her time of need. She didn't need the sympathy from everyone else; all that mattered was his hand on her cheek and his lips placing soft kisses on her face, accompanied by his voice whispering to her saying that things were going to be okay. But he was silent, and his arms stayed in place at his sides. She said his name again, but he stayed quiet. When she felt a hand on her shoulder she felt the tiniest bit comforted, but then she realized his hands were still at his sides, and his head was turned to the side.

You've never given me affection.

You've never showed friendly or romantic concern.

Is it because you're too shy?

She stared up at the detective with wide, big, blue eyes.

She spoke his name.

He simply smiled down at her and crouched down on one knee. "How are you doing?" She smiled at him and said "I'm fine!" Her friends stood behind her, watching the interaction. "Got anything to pass you by?" She laughed and grabbed onto his arm, the boy she loved so dearly. She said "Oh yes! My boyfriend keeps me going like a train!" The boy simply looked at her with a look of what she thought was embarrassment. "Is that so?" "OI!" He screamed, wailing his arm in her clutches. He spoke her name in irritation, eyes slanted in a livid way. She didn't understand why as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. Expecting that, he pulled away, growing annoyance on his features. She was hurt, but being used to it she didn't show it. Although as the detective walked away, she had to wonder why he reacted the way he did. She looked at him to ask and he was already looking away from her, walking in the previous direction.

No, it's not because you like me.

Nor is it because you can't stand to see me cry.

And it's not because you're shy.

A gentle hand scrunched her hair, smiling at her. "Is this goodbye?" She reached her arms out to him, hands begging to feel his warmth once more. He smiled and gave her a hug. It wasn't the one she expected, though. It was a different kind of hug. It, for some reason, made her feel so sad… why?

It was a goodbye hug, an "I'll see you around" kind of hug that said she- as a matter of fact- was ONLY going to SEE him around. She called his name out, fresh tears about to start in her eyes, but she held them back. It became increasingly harder as he let go of her, and she tried to look into his eyes. But he didn't look at her eyes. He looked away. He turned away.

And he turned into her arms- HER arms. The woman's…

His arm circled around her waist as she leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling and intertwining her fingers with his. Unlike he did to her, he openly wrapped his fingers in and kissed the woman's hand gently.

It's because you love her, and you've never loved me.

Well let me make something clear, you broke my heart twenty times over, and I am a woman now.

For a second, I miss your hands.

For a minute, I miss your lips.

For an hour, I miss your arms.

But most of the time, I realize I never had any of that in the first place, and I miss you.

And still I write this to warn you, the next time we meet-

You will gaze into my eyes…

21-year-old Ayumi Yoshida twirled a strawberry-dackery (sp?) in her hands, talking to some friends that she hanged out with in her college. Her dress was short, about mid-thigh, and she had a shawl over her shoulders. Her heels were tiny and open-toed. Her hair was long and curled, down to her now-matured chest. She chatted about the sports and the school events. Then came the subject of love. She sighed. It was something her study group brought up ALL THE TIME. She would always give them the same answer. "I'm not into anyone. No, really! I'm not into anyone!"

Then she felt eyes staring upon her back, her sixth sense sparking in the back of her mind. Turning around, she came face-to-face with big, blue eyes.

She recognized them, these eyes. They were watching her softly- silently. They asked her for attention, permission to come over and talk to her. Ayumi felt her heart break in two, pieces hit the floor.

You will want to see me...

You will want to hold my hands and ask me how I've been…

Then she pieced it back together.

Not glaring, not hesitating, she gave a gentle smile, shook her head, and faced back to her friends as another boy approached her.

…I will be the one to turn away.