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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2164837
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Romance/Love · #2164837
Exactly what the title says...a seemingly ordinary girl who is a little troubled
"I like you."

These tender words would never come out of her mouth. That was simply the kind of person she was. She would never admit it, not to her best friend, not to her beloved cat, not to anyone. But she would smile all the sadness and pain away if he could smile at her.

That was how much she liked him. But again was "like" really the right word? It seemed too casual for her type of devotion and casual was something she didn't do. So, he had secretly looked up the word "like" online, hidden in the smallest corner of her room, sheltered from the tense disagreements her parents sometimes had in the kitchen.

A sudden frown marred her smooth face as she studiously examined the results on her phone. The bright, gleaming screen seemed too garishly bright in the elegant darkness of her hideaway.

Any proper vampire would be envious of the room she had arranged, so properly guarded from any speck of light. Her blinds all clustered together tightly, slightly swaying as the fan gently spun. Her beautiful peony curtains fell gracefully against the blinds, carefully enclosing the window.

There was a reason for this arrangement. That's what she told her parents as they disapprovingly looked on. She remembered smirking then at those displeased looks on their faces before seamlessly escaping from their iron gaze.

But as she read those ugly black words on the screen, she was aware that she was radiating the same iron glare. "To feel attraction."
That was it? She wanted to scorn at those so-called geniuses who prided at being masters of the written art.

In the end, all she felt was reduced to being a small, insignificant attraction. She wanted to laugh, but she held in her derision and simply threw her phone against the mirror that reflected her entire room. It slammed into the mirror with an alarming thud, but the glass did not give way. It just trembled in the air as it shuddered with relief at avoiding its fate.

Her entire room seemed to have tensed when the cracked phone slid clumsily to the carpeted ground, scattering honed shards of her screen into the carpet's many layers. She only frowned again as she looked up to see the intact mirror. "Humph.." She quietly scoffed before being distracted by her shining reflection.

She slowly walked forward to the mirror, ignoring the remains of her pitiful new phone. Her parents would just have to acquire another one for her. They weren't capitalists for nothing after all. She looked up into her reflection, watching as it did the same.

She slowly smiled a cold, unkind smile. Her little tantrum had been ignored like a drop of water into the ocean among the midst of their shrill arguments. A inkling of disappointment and amusement filled her head before she calmly filed it away under all the ways her parents had let her down.

As she let her emotions flow her out of her mind, she thought back to the first moment, the first time she knew.

Her small smiles were radiant as she sneaked looks at him. She could only peek at him from the side as he rested in the adjacent chair. A warm feeling of happiness bubbled up in her chest. So this was what it felt like, she told herself, unaware of the shy delight upon her face. She could only hide herself within her comforting, black jacket, trying to contain this sudden warmth within her. She had never know this feeling before, this emotion of delicate tenderness and longing, so much longing. She just kept smiling like a girl who was lost in a dream. That’s what she was.

And so in those precious moments, she did her best to hold on to this fragile emotion of affection. Sh strained to guard it in her arms and defend it from the evils of the world.

Yet, then she never could foresee what would happen to her, what he let happen to her. At the time, it was an infatuation. And now, it would be a devotion, a devotion of her love and her hate for him.
© Copyright 2018 Haydee Lockwood (sixthgate at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2164837