Plastic
Oh you're such a
Perfection.
The nightsky shone, stardust sprinkled and scattered in the sky without any range nor limit, and the moon which protruded from the brilliance of the navy blue seemed to be on a newly formulated and improved light source. Moonlight beams as bright as fluorescent table lamps shone on the tiny café, gingerly built in the middle of an antique shop and a stationary shop, was homely with the aroma of coffee grains and over-starched gingham tablecloths. He sat on the velvet maroon sofa, checking his watch consistently.
It was 2AM.
The light shone from the paper lamps, giving the place a slight glow. People surrounded, engulfed, disappeared among each other. Laughter Anger Fear Anxiety Sadness Emotions were planted like exploding devices all over the room, triggered and catalysed by people themselves. He dodged the emotions and thrust his bare naked eyes around the café. It was impossible to miss her, stature poise and all.
---
, cause she was so beautiful,
She was hard to miss (or probably cause he was an experienced stalker).
--xXx
(her: something strange&beautiful)
" I really love your hair, it's seriously cute on you. Like, breathtakingly cute. Really cute. Cyeah."
He could never forget those words, cause they caused his heart beat to accelerate at 120 kilometres per hour, along with implanting and germinating daydreams of a fairytale romance between him and her (even though it was possibly affirmed that it was a theatrical impossibility), oh what the impractical caricaturist he was.
But even so, he would do anything for her. Just about anything and everything, even if it meant meeting her at 2AM without any reason or rhyme to explain with. Just a:
" I need you. "
Would register an : "Okay." from his mouth.
Just three words would suffice for him, it was enough. After all, they wereisare bestfriends, best friends for life, for an eternity. They had after all, pledged with plastic cereal box rings and wished on every wish on everlasting friendship since he had learnt how to flick frozen peas at teachers accurately.
inno cen ce
"I'll wear this ring for you forever – cause you're my best friend forever!" The childish girlish voice took a nice a ring in his ears even back then. He liked the phrasing of her sentences -they were all so fluid. He felt for his wallet, the ring jutted out unmistakeably, the comforting imperfection visible to everyone. He had promised her he would always bring it around.
--
He checked his wristwatch, 2AM and 10minutes. Oh dear. He fretted inwardly.
then
Someone tapped his shoulder.
&&&
He turned
Her.
---
What a feeling in my head,
Love.
--
She toyed with the teaspoon in her silken hands, the coffee in the synthetic plastic mug was gradually freezing, staring at the piece of scrap paper on the table. He rubbed his hands together and shivered. There were things called thermostats and they were things to be raised when it was cold, he muttered to himself in his head.
She had not spoken a word, she had not even bothered to brush off the snow on her woollen scarf, brush off the snow off her mittens.
He grimaced. "I'll help you with the snow," He yanked off her mittens. Utter Shock.
The teaspoon descended gracefully onto the table, gravity aided with the gracefulness. Her hands were like a vicegrip, a freezing one, around his wrists. Gravity pulled her tears down. He caught a glimpse of the note : Break-up. I'm sorry. Love, Sora.
The ring. It couldn't have been transparent.
It couldn't have not been there. (bestfriend)
---
"I really need you. I really do." She choked on her tears, she sobbed and wailed. Her face centimetres away from his, the ardent (was it desire or love) he had for her. The catalysts of his reaction.
You need me. You only need me. You don't love me.
--
Those kisses she gave him had tasted like bullets, bullets of guilt and fear and hatred and happiness shot through his entire being, he was just a mannequin for her to practise target shooting, his passion fortified by cherry lipstick stains printed on him meticulously, his lips groped around for hers, his hands groped around for the zipper of her jeans. The hotel room's starched linen bedsheets smelled like gunpower and- love.
I'm trying, I'm trying to let you know how much you mean)
"I'm so confused, Roxas.
Don't worry it'll be okay, Kairi."
… He didn't know what was right and wrong anymore.
He pulled her zip down.
(could I die for you?)
---
"I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets"
"I loved you. But I hated you. I really love you. I hated you. So are we dead yet, if you aren't please crush the plastic ring that's left of us. The plastic isn't anything anymore. It's dead, dead and synthetic, factory-made." Kairi crushed up the scrap of paper.
The boy's body lay there, holes through his head, bullets scattered on the floor, blood splattered on the wall. The revolver was painted with the word "LOVE" on it. It was only synthetic plastic. Plastic could kill someone, could kill someone so bad.
She sat Roxas up against the wall and loaded the gun with the bullets. Her mouth pressed against his- bangbang
"I'm sorry."
They would be together like this, forever.
(if I'm love, you're murder)
finished