Firework
“But that's not love.”
He laughed, eyes all crinkled. Pretty, and yet looked half dead as per usual. Like there's no life left behind. And perhaps, that's also true. For the world had been so cruel he no longer has any energy to fight anymore. His whole being screamed tiredness, and in the dark color of his dull eyes, you thought you would try to dive into. You thought you would be able to swim in his head and try to understand the why; why he tried so hard to feed another while he's dying himself.
“I know.” He whispered. His hand trembled, and you held the urge to hold.
Sometime, you thought you interrupted some intimate time he had with his own mind. Hence why, you never really reached out to help him stand against the autumn breeze. You let him lit up his cigarette, and watched as he puffed out the smoke. He's gorgeous, that's a fact. And yet, he managed to hid himself amidst the crowd like that. You thought, a star so bright should be able to shine through the night, not drowning like this.
It's unfair.
But, that's what love could do to someone, you think. Some chose to nurture and let it grow into beautiful red roses, the rest simply let it consume their soul until the very last. But this boy? This boy had gone beyond.
“Then, why?”
And then, you watched as his lips quirked up and somehow—you understood.
Rumthea, 11. 04 pm.