[One-Shot #1]: One Last Wish/One Last Goodbye
Title: One Last Wish/One Last Goodbye
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Angst
Word Count: 2538
Status: Finished
Dedicated To: Seong Il Y.
Summary: 'Please just tell me you want me to stay, that you need my words and my opinion and my care…my feelings. Tell me that you want me here…’
She wanted to take his hand; she wanted to embrace him close. She wanted his warmth - that was all she honestly desired. Instead, he was denying her everything, leaving her standing by herself…in the cold with no shell to protect her from it. ‘Please just tell me you want me to stay, that you need my words and my opinion and my care…my feelings. Tell me that you want me here…’
“You’re right. I can’t ask you to stay, that’s too selfish of me. But maybe…one day…” His voice trailed off in her mind. The only words she could focus on were “maybe one day.” ‘Maybe…one day? …Tell me you’re joking still, that this is just another cruel test from you. That you’ll start smiling and laughing and start telling me that I’m something else, that you’re sorry for joking, that I’m too nice for you…’ But as his words droned on, she realized this wasn’t a joke, and she couldn’t help her future actions.
Instead of lovingly taking his hands in hers, she brought her right palm hard across his left cheek. All the while, she bit her bottom lip - trying with all her might not to break down into tears in front of him nor imagine the amount of physical pain she just delivered to him, “One..day…you liar. You’ll never change. I know too many people like you, and they don’t change…not even for the person they might possibly like…” Her eyes avoided all contact with his and merely focused on the carpeted floor. Her fists were clenched to the tightest possible.
“…”
His silence proved her point. He couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t take anything back, and he couldn’t guarantee her happiness. He could only stand there and take the pain.
“Do you…even care? I am some random girl…” The last sentence, she spat out with much spite. She wondered if they hadn’t met in such circumstances, if she had lived closer to him…would this have lasted longer? If she could see him every day, if she could be there physically for him after he got off his busy days…if she could give him a comforting massage after all those days at work and at school, if she could cook him a warm dinner…would it have lasted? She felt so hopeless, so trapped with that one simple sentence…Nonetheless; she wanted an honest response from him, a serious response.
“Random at first…I don’t think you’re too random now…You got me busted twice at work, see you’re special,” he was trying hard to make light of the matter. He even forced a smile, a laugh.
She pitied him; he was trying hard to cover what he really wanted to say. He was trying hard to make this easy, he was trying hard not to hurt her. And yet, she hated this. This isn’t what she wanted at all. She wanted him to ask her to stay…and she knew he would never do that. This will be the end of a once hopeful summer. ‘This isn’t anything new. Get a grip on reality…I never had a chance,’ she found herself trying to bury the pain, the rejection.
“Anyways, let’s stop talking about sad stuff now.” He managed to say with such a calm voice…So calm that these words shot through her entire body, and she felt all her muscles go limp. The clenched fists relaxed and lied flat next to her thighs. She couldn’t fight against him - she, after all, still adored him so much. She would do almost anything if he were the one to ask. He just wasn’t asking what she wanted him to ask at that instant.
“Good…lu-luck with work and e-everything,” she was still choking on her words. She still wanted to burst into tears. She wanted him to feel bad by witnessing her tears. Yet, she wanted him to be happy. She wanted to make this easy too. She didn’t want to talk about ‘sad stuff’ either, whether or not it was because he asked her to stop talking about it…is another matter.
“Yea, I should get going…Someone got fired already for taking too long of breaks…” He seemed to hesitate, as if leaving wasn’t the solution he was seeking out.
“Then why are you still here?!” She forced herself to scold him like she would before, when he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to be doing. She was trying hard to sound normal, as if they would be able to talk like friends the next day, “Go…” She finally looked up from that wretched carpet, and straight into his eyes…she couldn’t help but take in the details of his face one last time.
He gave her a smile, but it wasn’t forced. It was a smile that tried hard to cover confusion. He was probably debating whether it would be a good idea to leave now or if he should stay longer.
She could only force a smile for him, “Bye...” The only word she could spit out…felt so final.
“Bye.”
And with that, he was out of her sight. And out of her life, if only she knew then how much he would be gone. Maybe then she would have stoically taken everything in and kept persevering. She would have waited for him with no questions, no doubts. But she didn’t know. She didn’t know that he’ll disappear from her reach for months; that she wouldn’t be able to face another guy, that she wouldn’t want any guy after him - that she would miss him as much as she would.
“Aish, call him,” her friend was trying hard to encourage her to do something she wasn’t sure would be right.
“He’ll get fired…I already got him two strikes…And I don’t want him fired. He needs the job more than anything,” she sighed and looked straight ahead, focusing on the snacks neatly stacked on the living room table and avoiding the sour face her friend was making because of the negative response to the encouragement. “Besides, what would I say?” She wouldn’t dare finish that thought to her friend. The things she wanted to say to him now...she knew she would never have the courage to tell him. The conversation she wanted to imagine now…she knew would never be how it goes in reality. Everything she wanted…she knew would never be possible.
“Then get him fired. Call it an early Christmas present,” She grinned at the thought. “Wouldn’t it be perfect?”
“You…don’t get it. I would never do that…” She knew her friend would never understand. She never heard his pleading voice when he begged to please don’t call him at work. That voice she adored so much…She couldn’t help but let out another sigh.
“So what? You’ll just let Christmas roll on by and then spoil him by sending him a birthday present though? How is that fair to you?” Her voice grew stern with annoyance as a response to the sighing and hesitating.
“I…don’t know,” her voice, her will was giving up. It seemed pointless to defend her desired actions because they did seem stupid and irrational and useless.
“You’re too nice.”
Those words bothered her to no end. She never understood why people told her she was too nice, it never even occurred to her that she was all that nice to begin with…But they never failed to tell her that. ‘So what if I’m too nice? Is it so bad…If that was really true, then everyone’s right and there would be no guy worthy of my niceness...which isn’t true...’ She felt sick and bitter, partly due to those three words. But also because she remembered when he told her that too.
He told her that after he played a ‘joke’ on her, after she had travelled across the country to see him. The memories infiltrated her thoughts, overcame any other important subject and trapped her so that she could experience the emotions, the pain as if it merely occurred hours - no seconds ago.
“I have something to tell you…It’s very important. I think I should stop lying. But I’m scared you’re going to come kill me and hate me and never talk to me again. You promise you won’t curse and hate me forever?” She couldn’t tell from his voice what he was aiming at. She couldn’t tell anything at all, especially since she was suffering from jetlag, exhaustion from yesterday’s tourism activities, and from just waking up.
“Ah…Depends on how bad it is. I can’t promise things and it’d be something I can’t keep,” she finally managed to respond.
There was only silence on the line, but she could tell he was probably pouting. And from the looks of it, this was going to end up as one horrible guessing game at nine in the morning.
“You’re...uhh…gay?” She didn’t know what else to guess. Actually, she didn’t want to guess the one and only thing this could end up as.
“Noooo, not that,” he protested instantly.
“You…have a girlfriend already?”
The return to silence meant she hit the spot. The one spot she did not want to hit at all.
“Are you going to ignore me now?”
“…You shouldn’t have lied,” the anger was building…but fatigue knocked it down before she could use it to respond. She was trying hard to get a grip of the situation but to avail.
“I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, really sorry.” She was back at not being able to tell anything from his voice and that made her sick to her stomach.
“…No, if you were really sorry, you would’ve told me about it before hand…It’s fine, friends still?” She wasn’t exactly sure why she chose to respond like that. If it was anyone else, she would’ve yelled and screamed and told them that they were cruel and heartless and a bastard. She would’ve cried. Maybe she really did like him enough that she didn’t want to lose his friendship even if he had a girlfriend, even if he had lied to her, even if she was just made a fool. Her stomach churned again.
“Really? …” He began to laugh, except it seemed to hurt more than help the situation. “Wow, you really are something else.”
“Huh?” was the only thing she could utter from her vocabulary - not the words ‘You jerk! I can’t stand you!’ which deemed more appropriate.
“Sorry, I’ll stop. You’re too nice, even if it were true. I don’t have a girlfriend…yet.” The pain in her stomach, and now in her heart wouldn’t disappear. Joke or not, it seemed too cruel. Too real. The last sentence, she couldn’t tell if he meant that she would become his girlfriend or not. All she could interpret was the confusion and the pain, but that didn’t stop her from continuing the conversation as if his ‘joke confession’ never occurred. She wanted it to be okay so badly. If she could pretend that it didn’t happen, if she could ignore the seriousness in his voice just a moment ago…it would be okay, right?
“Hoy~” Her friend stole her attention and unknowingly and temporarily freed her from memory’s chains. “So what have you decided?”
“…”
“Ahh, you’re hopeless!”
‘It’s better than ‘you’re too nice’.’ “Yea, yea…I know,” she was trying hard to not reveal her thoughts to her friend. She was trying hard not to reveal the fact she just relived his cruel joke one more time, even after they’ve been separated for months. She was trying hard not to reveal that it still hurt as if she’d been given a fresh cut on her skin that consequently opened the past wounds.
Back in the comfort of her room - away from her friend’s never ending verbal abuse, she eyed that filled wishing star bottle. It was neither too big nor too small; it was perfect for across-the-country shipping; it was perfect for showing how one cared without overwhelming the receiver; and it was so perfect for him. Perfect only for him. Each tiny star that occupied a small fraction of the glass jar’s volume was folded carefully, neatly and with him in mind. Every ‘good luck’, every ‘stay well’, every saying possibly printed reflected everything she felt. There were even plain stars made of notebook paper she had personally cut and folded during her most sleep-inducing classes and during her most active classes. Seconds, minutes, hours used in making these stars - all dedicated to him. Even the bottle’s design screamed his persona - yellow and with an adorable image of a pig.
It almost sickened her, thinking about how much of her energy she spent on it. It almost sickened her, knowing she could neither keep it nor give it to anyone but him. It almost sickened her, knowing she would send this package of adoration and love, along with a box of almond-chocolate covered pocky that had been collecting dust in the back of her shelf - his claimed favorite.
These two things she kept close to her side always made her wonder about something though. They made her wonder how could a person know so much about another, and still know nothing about them. How one could know another’s daily schedule, their likes and dislikes, their hobbies and habits, and yet still not know them. And like all the previous times when she began to ponder this, tears started to form, threatening to tell anyone around how hurt she still was.
She let out a sigh and reached for the flattened box she had tucked away under her desk months ago. It was just enough to hold that glass jar safely and that pocky box, and possibly a handwritten letter or a birthday card. She finally felt it unfair that these two things continued to haunt her, continued to taunt her by bringing to life old memories of him, old conversations with him.
She would finally send this box to him once Christmas has passed, in time for his birthday. Although to others it may seem like another selfless act, another desperate act to tell him that she cared for him still…and possibly, it is part that. However, she felt it more like a closure: as an apology for physically hurting him, as an apology for stuttering those cruel words to him after…and more importantly as a truce, as her last hope. With this, she hoped he would come find her again, like the day he found her. With that meeting, she hoped they could start another conversation, a friendly one. And with that, she hoped to know him, not as the guy she deemed perfect for her but as a friend whom she would not want to do without.
And although she knew those hopes may be too unrealistic and too optimistic, she would finally be rid of the two constant reminders of him.
By sending this box, she knew she would be taking a risk. But a risk that will help further close the wounds and bring her a step closer to being normal without him being a part of her life, or a risk that will help stabilize a deteriorating friendship she honestly can’t bear to lose.
She prayed for the latter as she prepped the box for its future flight.
Stole Sarah's posting format =D
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Angst
Word Count: 2538
Status: Finished
Dedicated To: Seong Il Y.
Summary: 'Please just tell me you want me to stay, that you need my words and my opinion and my care…my feelings. Tell me that you want me here…’
She wanted to take his hand; she wanted to embrace him close. She wanted his warmth - that was all she honestly desired. Instead, he was denying her everything, leaving her standing by herself…in the cold with no shell to protect her from it. ‘Please just tell me you want me to stay, that you need my words and my opinion and my care…my feelings. Tell me that you want me here…’
“You’re right. I can’t ask you to stay, that’s too selfish of me. But maybe…one day…” His voice trailed off in her mind. The only words she could focus on were “maybe one day.” ‘Maybe…one day? …Tell me you’re joking still, that this is just another cruel test from you. That you’ll start smiling and laughing and start telling me that I’m something else, that you’re sorry for joking, that I’m too nice for you…’ But as his words droned on, she realized this wasn’t a joke, and she couldn’t help her future actions.
Instead of lovingly taking his hands in hers, she brought her right palm hard across his left cheek. All the while, she bit her bottom lip - trying with all her might not to break down into tears in front of him nor imagine the amount of physical pain she just delivered to him, “One..day…you liar. You’ll never change. I know too many people like you, and they don’t change…not even for the person they might possibly like…” Her eyes avoided all contact with his and merely focused on the carpeted floor. Her fists were clenched to the tightest possible.
“…”
His silence proved her point. He couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t take anything back, and he couldn’t guarantee her happiness. He could only stand there and take the pain.
“Do you…even care? I am some random girl…” The last sentence, she spat out with much spite. She wondered if they hadn’t met in such circumstances, if she had lived closer to him…would this have lasted longer? If she could see him every day, if she could be there physically for him after he got off his busy days…if she could give him a comforting massage after all those days at work and at school, if she could cook him a warm dinner…would it have lasted? She felt so hopeless, so trapped with that one simple sentence…Nonetheless; she wanted an honest response from him, a serious response.
“Random at first…I don’t think you’re too random now…You got me busted twice at work, see you’re special,” he was trying hard to make light of the matter. He even forced a smile, a laugh.
She pitied him; he was trying hard to cover what he really wanted to say. He was trying hard to make this easy, he was trying hard not to hurt her. And yet, she hated this. This isn’t what she wanted at all. She wanted him to ask her to stay…and she knew he would never do that. This will be the end of a once hopeful summer. ‘This isn’t anything new. Get a grip on reality…I never had a chance,’ she found herself trying to bury the pain, the rejection.
“Anyways, let’s stop talking about sad stuff now.” He managed to say with such a calm voice…So calm that these words shot through her entire body, and she felt all her muscles go limp. The clenched fists relaxed and lied flat next to her thighs. She couldn’t fight against him - she, after all, still adored him so much. She would do almost anything if he were the one to ask. He just wasn’t asking what she wanted him to ask at that instant.
“Good…lu-luck with work and e-everything,” she was still choking on her words. She still wanted to burst into tears. She wanted him to feel bad by witnessing her tears. Yet, she wanted him to be happy. She wanted to make this easy too. She didn’t want to talk about ‘sad stuff’ either, whether or not it was because he asked her to stop talking about it…is another matter.
“Yea, I should get going…Someone got fired already for taking too long of breaks…” He seemed to hesitate, as if leaving wasn’t the solution he was seeking out.
“Then why are you still here?!” She forced herself to scold him like she would before, when he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to be doing. She was trying hard to sound normal, as if they would be able to talk like friends the next day, “Go…” She finally looked up from that wretched carpet, and straight into his eyes…she couldn’t help but take in the details of his face one last time.
He gave her a smile, but it wasn’t forced. It was a smile that tried hard to cover confusion. He was probably debating whether it would be a good idea to leave now or if he should stay longer.
She could only force a smile for him, “Bye...” The only word she could spit out…felt so final.
“Bye.”
And with that, he was out of her sight. And out of her life, if only she knew then how much he would be gone. Maybe then she would have stoically taken everything in and kept persevering. She would have waited for him with no questions, no doubts. But she didn’t know. She didn’t know that he’ll disappear from her reach for months; that she wouldn’t be able to face another guy, that she wouldn’t want any guy after him - that she would miss him as much as she would.
“Aish, call him,” her friend was trying hard to encourage her to do something she wasn’t sure would be right.
“He’ll get fired…I already got him two strikes…And I don’t want him fired. He needs the job more than anything,” she sighed and looked straight ahead, focusing on the snacks neatly stacked on the living room table and avoiding the sour face her friend was making because of the negative response to the encouragement. “Besides, what would I say?” She wouldn’t dare finish that thought to her friend. The things she wanted to say to him now...she knew she would never have the courage to tell him. The conversation she wanted to imagine now…she knew would never be how it goes in reality. Everything she wanted…she knew would never be possible.
“Then get him fired. Call it an early Christmas present,” She grinned at the thought. “Wouldn’t it be perfect?”
“You…don’t get it. I would never do that…” She knew her friend would never understand. She never heard his pleading voice when he begged to please don’t call him at work. That voice she adored so much…She couldn’t help but let out another sigh.
“So what? You’ll just let Christmas roll on by and then spoil him by sending him a birthday present though? How is that fair to you?” Her voice grew stern with annoyance as a response to the sighing and hesitating.
“I…don’t know,” her voice, her will was giving up. It seemed pointless to defend her desired actions because they did seem stupid and irrational and useless.
“You’re too nice.”
Those words bothered her to no end. She never understood why people told her she was too nice, it never even occurred to her that she was all that nice to begin with…But they never failed to tell her that. ‘So what if I’m too nice? Is it so bad…If that was really true, then everyone’s right and there would be no guy worthy of my niceness...which isn’t true...’ She felt sick and bitter, partly due to those three words. But also because she remembered when he told her that too.
He told her that after he played a ‘joke’ on her, after she had travelled across the country to see him. The memories infiltrated her thoughts, overcame any other important subject and trapped her so that she could experience the emotions, the pain as if it merely occurred hours - no seconds ago.
“I have something to tell you…It’s very important. I think I should stop lying. But I’m scared you’re going to come kill me and hate me and never talk to me again. You promise you won’t curse and hate me forever?” She couldn’t tell from his voice what he was aiming at. She couldn’t tell anything at all, especially since she was suffering from jetlag, exhaustion from yesterday’s tourism activities, and from just waking up.
“Ah…Depends on how bad it is. I can’t promise things and it’d be something I can’t keep,” she finally managed to respond.
There was only silence on the line, but she could tell he was probably pouting. And from the looks of it, this was going to end up as one horrible guessing game at nine in the morning.
“You’re...uhh…gay?” She didn’t know what else to guess. Actually, she didn’t want to guess the one and only thing this could end up as.
“Noooo, not that,” he protested instantly.
“You…have a girlfriend already?”
The return to silence meant she hit the spot. The one spot she did not want to hit at all.
“Are you going to ignore me now?”
“…You shouldn’t have lied,” the anger was building…but fatigue knocked it down before she could use it to respond. She was trying hard to get a grip of the situation but to avail.
“I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, really sorry.” She was back at not being able to tell anything from his voice and that made her sick to her stomach.
“…No, if you were really sorry, you would’ve told me about it before hand…It’s fine, friends still?” She wasn’t exactly sure why she chose to respond like that. If it was anyone else, she would’ve yelled and screamed and told them that they were cruel and heartless and a bastard. She would’ve cried. Maybe she really did like him enough that she didn’t want to lose his friendship even if he had a girlfriend, even if he had lied to her, even if she was just made a fool. Her stomach churned again.
“Really? …” He began to laugh, except it seemed to hurt more than help the situation. “Wow, you really are something else.”
“Huh?” was the only thing she could utter from her vocabulary - not the words ‘You jerk! I can’t stand you!’ which deemed more appropriate.
“Sorry, I’ll stop. You’re too nice, even if it were true. I don’t have a girlfriend…yet.” The pain in her stomach, and now in her heart wouldn’t disappear. Joke or not, it seemed too cruel. Too real. The last sentence, she couldn’t tell if he meant that she would become his girlfriend or not. All she could interpret was the confusion and the pain, but that didn’t stop her from continuing the conversation as if his ‘joke confession’ never occurred. She wanted it to be okay so badly. If she could pretend that it didn’t happen, if she could ignore the seriousness in his voice just a moment ago…it would be okay, right?
“Hoy~” Her friend stole her attention and unknowingly and temporarily freed her from memory’s chains. “So what have you decided?”
“…”
“Ahh, you’re hopeless!”
‘It’s better than ‘you’re too nice’.’ “Yea, yea…I know,” she was trying hard to not reveal her thoughts to her friend. She was trying hard not to reveal the fact she just relived his cruel joke one more time, even after they’ve been separated for months. She was trying hard not to reveal that it still hurt as if she’d been given a fresh cut on her skin that consequently opened the past wounds.
Back in the comfort of her room - away from her friend’s never ending verbal abuse, she eyed that filled wishing star bottle. It was neither too big nor too small; it was perfect for across-the-country shipping; it was perfect for showing how one cared without overwhelming the receiver; and it was so perfect for him. Perfect only for him. Each tiny star that occupied a small fraction of the glass jar’s volume was folded carefully, neatly and with him in mind. Every ‘good luck’, every ‘stay well’, every saying possibly printed reflected everything she felt. There were even plain stars made of notebook paper she had personally cut and folded during her most sleep-inducing classes and during her most active classes. Seconds, minutes, hours used in making these stars - all dedicated to him. Even the bottle’s design screamed his persona - yellow and with an adorable image of a pig.
It almost sickened her, thinking about how much of her energy she spent on it. It almost sickened her, knowing she could neither keep it nor give it to anyone but him. It almost sickened her, knowing she would send this package of adoration and love, along with a box of almond-chocolate covered pocky that had been collecting dust in the back of her shelf - his claimed favorite.
These two things she kept close to her side always made her wonder about something though. They made her wonder how could a person know so much about another, and still know nothing about them. How one could know another’s daily schedule, their likes and dislikes, their hobbies and habits, and yet still not know them. And like all the previous times when she began to ponder this, tears started to form, threatening to tell anyone around how hurt she still was.
She let out a sigh and reached for the flattened box she had tucked away under her desk months ago. It was just enough to hold that glass jar safely and that pocky box, and possibly a handwritten letter or a birthday card. She finally felt it unfair that these two things continued to haunt her, continued to taunt her by bringing to life old memories of him, old conversations with him.
She would finally send this box to him once Christmas has passed, in time for his birthday. Although to others it may seem like another selfless act, another desperate act to tell him that she cared for him still…and possibly, it is part that. However, she felt it more like a closure: as an apology for physically hurting him, as an apology for stuttering those cruel words to him after…and more importantly as a truce, as her last hope. With this, she hoped he would come find her again, like the day he found her. With that meeting, she hoped they could start another conversation, a friendly one. And with that, she hoped to know him, not as the guy she deemed perfect for her but as a friend whom she would not want to do without.
And although she knew those hopes may be too unrealistic and too optimistic, she would finally be rid of the two constant reminders of him.
By sending this box, she knew she would be taking a risk. But a risk that will help further close the wounds and bring her a step closer to being normal without him being a part of her life, or a risk that will help stabilize a deteriorating friendship she honestly can’t bear to lose.
She prayed for the latter as she prepped the box for its future flight.
Stole Sarah's posting format =D