unnamed characters : salt air | itâs time to stop.
plot : the one where wanting was enough.
tags : cheating,references to folklore esp illicit affairs.
Wanting was enough. One thing was enough. For her it was enough.
It started with a glance. Merging into longing stares. Her pristine green dress rivaling the bright fairy lights and spotless white table cloths. His cold demeaning aura contrasting the warm and lively environment. The social gathering celebrated the tying of the knot of two women happily commemorating their day. She sat still and unmoving with her spouse, who was in a friendly banter with one of the guests, occasionally patting her shoulder or sharing details that he and the guest was talking about. Details she could care less about, out of politeness sheâd let out a chuckle or mutter out âReally now?â.
If you looked at her table youâd think that the talkative bunch was a speck of nothing or the other way around.
The girlâs attention was fixated only one thing. Or person rather.
She didnât mean to stare at him. Oh but how could she?
Heâs her light in the darkness. Her warmth when she shivered in the cold. Heâs everything to her than the human perspective could ever understand.
But she shouldnât. She shouldnât feel that.
She shouldnât feel like the luckiest person in the world whenever he told her that he loved her. The words shouldnât have made her feel what the person beside her hasnât made her feel. His kiss shouldnât have thrilled her because of the circumstances that were laid out on the table.
She couldnât look at anything else now that she saw him. Whenever she stared, heâd feel her eyes on him and heâd turn around eyes darting around, searching for her, he said it felt like an obligation, one he needed to do. Every social calling, their immediate stares would fall on one another.
Longing for one another. Wanting each other. Calling for the other.
He would gesture for her to leave, go somewhere secluded where they could soak up in the feeling of each other. Rooftops and parking lots were their common spaces, where they could express their love for each other. Their clandestine meetings continued both individuals going behind the backs of their spouses, playing cat and mouse. Mouse fleeing away from the cat, food in mouth and eventually hiding until it needs to steal again. Eventually there would be a day where the mouse would get caught. A day they both dreaded, where the cat would seize the mouse, gripping it on itâs hand with its sharp claws into the dark hole of its mouth. And so it came.
Neither of their spouses found out, his wife fell ill and he reasoned that it was wrong that he was doing this while she was fighting for her life. His wife herself wasnât enough to rival her but her sickness did, it felt unfair.
She had begged him to stay, on her knees, hands clasped tightly on his wrists. Begging for him to just choose her. Even after that happened she still hopes. Hoping that he would turn around and look at her. Smile at her. Make things alright again.
But it wasnât like that anymore. He belonged to someone, someone that wasnât her. Even though he wasnât even hers to lose in the first place. Gazing at him and her, they looked made for each other, even a blind person could tell and she knew heâd choose her a million times over her yet if she was given an option? She wouldnât leave him out at the cold.
With lungs encased with the smoke of greed, she swallows her agony.
A/N: TAKE THIS WHILE I FINISH MY KYLE HCS AND POST IT NEXT WEEK đââď¸đââď¸đ¨
















