Summary: I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending that your eyes on me don't burn me like you're the sun and I'm flying a thousand light years too close to you.

A/N: Thank you so much to the people who reviewed. I'm well aware that this ain't gonna be my most popular fic because it's rarepair but this is one of my most self-indulgent pieces and I'm extremely fond of it. The narrative style for this particular chapter is my absolute personal favorite (call it poetry, or love letter format, or first person adressing second person narrative, if that even exists). I'm also leaving this fic open because I might throw in short drabbles every once in a while if I feel like it.


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You're soft.

Soft and blue and breathtakingly beautiful, your eyes fixed on mine and the touch of your fingers over my quivering skin as you shake my hand with a timid nice to meet you. My facade crumbles under your scrutinizing stare and I can't help but blush like some kind of naive, overwhelmed schoolgirl. It's embarrassing, to say the least. And I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending that your eyes on me don't burn me like you're the sun and I'm flying a thousand light years too close to you.

You're too much for me to even attempt to stare back. Too warm. Too bright. Too far away to try and reach out to you.

Self-consciously, I pull my hand away from your grasp.

You look hurt, and my heart breaks so loudly I'm scared you might have hear it shatter.

Oh, God.

I think I love you.

.

It's okay, I tell myself, no one has to know.

.

But you go far and beyond to climb over this wall and I don't know how to keep you out anymore. You come to me with your sunshine smile and your gentle grazing fingers casually poking my cheeks or gliding on my hair. They feel warm as they wrap comfortingly against my shoulder, when they rest over the back of my hand, as they run soothingly rubbing on my back.

...And I let you. I let you.

Do you even know what you do to me?

You come to me with a kind of love I've forgotten, and I don't know how to push you away without breaking what's left of my heart —If you go away, you'll be taking my heart with you. And see, I don't know if can make it in this world without you.

(Theoretically, I would survive. Realistically, you would have killed me.)

I think you've ruined me.

.

.

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The more I think of it, the more ironic I think it is that I got over him after I met you but you got over him before you met me.

.

However,

I never thought I'd had to get over you.

.

.

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Please stop this.

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It's getting kind of cruel, don't you think? So for the sake of our friendship, please stop this.

I don't want your arms curled around mine or your sleeping head resting on my shoulder. I don't need girl's night at my place with your hands pampering my face in a way that's all too kind. I refuse sharing a sleepbag with you, or the rest of your soda, or the bright red lipstick you insist looks so good on me. Don't want it, don't need it, won't have it. I won't acknowledge the unfounded yearning in your eyes when you look at me (why do you even look at me like that?). I deny you the right, the opportunity, the chance to break my heart.

And don't call me Shiho-chan, for God's sake. I'm older than you.

So can we cut the BBF act now? I didn't ask for a best friend. I'm sorry but I can't be your best friend.

Because you're killing me.

(Why do you do this to me?)

So please, please stop this.

.

.

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You kissed me, and now we're both crying.

.

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I'm crying because you're crying, baka. I'm crying because you love me too. Because your hand on mine it's soft but your grasp is firm and I'm holding the sun in my arms without fear of setting myself on fire. I'm crying because you gave me so much of yourself that I unsuspectedly became one with you.

I'm crying because I love you.

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What are you crying for, huh?

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