Terrified

Do you remember the time we lay on our stomachs on my bedroom floor, with our legs entwined and your hand on the small of my back? I do. I remember how we colored pretty pictures, but after a while you gave up and just watched me. It unnerved me, I wasn't used to being watched or even so much as looked at, so I asked why you had stopped.

Because I can't do it, you said, your eyes never straying from the paper that sat beneath my palms.

I was perplexed, how could you suddenly not do it? You had been only minutes before, the activity had even been your idea. But I had left it at that and continued to draw, my tongue poking out of the side of my mouth in concentration. Still you gazed at me! I asked you why you didn't try to do it again, maybe something different from before.

Because I don't want to, you replied, still tracing the movement of my pencil with those blue orbs of yours.

It never occured to me that you weren't talking about doodling.

-----

Once you told me that I was amazing. I blushed, swept the hair out of my eyes, and scuffed the ground with my feet, wondering how in the world to respond. But I didn't have to, I never did with you, because you wrapped your arms around me and squeezed. I gladly copied the motion, reveling in your warmth and how safe you felt.

I'm scared, you whispered, and I shivered, for I was not used to hearing you sound so quiet and helpless.

Wind gusted, chilling us to the bone and howling in our ears. I trembled again and pressed myself closer to you, hoping you would let me. You did, and I asked what you were afraid of.

I don't know, you murmured, breath tickling my skin.

But I knew that you really did know, and that you were just keeping it a secret from me. What I didn't know was that I was the thing you were afraid of.

-----

For Christmas! I yelled, for you looked ever so confused when I handed you the wrapped box with the bow on top. You took it and turned it over in your hands, crinkling the shiny foil and ruffling the ribbons. I asked if you were going to open it soon.

Yes, of course, you said, and proceeded to rip the paper off.

I watched the scraps float down to the ground, then let my eyes wander back to your face. You smiled at me and kissed the tip of my nose. My face colored and I asked if you like it, if it was a good gift.

It's lovely, you told me, but your eyes said different, for they were flat and emotionless.

I hid my face in your arms and said that was good, but I was worried. You had never looked like that before, so why would you now?

-----

I wasn't expecting it of course, it was a shock to my system, a horrible sensation that I never in a million years would have guessed would happen. I merely stared at you, my mouth slightly open, baffled by the words that had just come tumbling out of your mouth. I asked you to repeat them, even though I knew what you had said.

I don't love you anymore, you said, your eyes looking anywhere but my face.

My heart shattered and tears stung my eyes, but I kept it together. Crying would do me no good, and if I had to go down, I would go down with my dignity intact. But my conscious didn't really want that to happen, for it made me ask why, why in the world would you say that?

I'm sorry, you muttered, and gave me a one-sided hug, as if that would make up for your cruel words.

I watched as you walked away from me and wondered why I hadn't see it coming.