“I’ve always wanted a star,” she says looking up.
The sky is dark blue ink with specks of glitter. She wished she could dip a quill into the sky. If she wrote with the sky, would her words finally be worth something?
“You can actually buy stars you know?” She starts off again, turning to look at him. He’s not looking at her as he brings the cigarette to his lips. She mimics his movements, letting the smoke flow out as she sighs. She should’ve expected this, it was foolish to have hoped for something different. Unfortunately, she was as foolish as thy came. Hope and infatuation were the sole reason she existed some days.
“I was going to buy some, and then I realised I couldn’t,” she continued regardless, turning her attention back to the sky. She raised the cigarette to her lips once more. A deep breath in, the heady rush of tobacco in, a little bit of pain exhaled out. She was baring a little part of her to him, he didn’t seem to notice as he looked out.
“I’ll buy you one,” he says with a calm smile. His body language betraying what he so desperately wanted to hide. He shifts from foot to foot, he fixes his hair distractedly and takes another few drags of the cigarette before crushing it in the tray with a noise of irritation. He wants to leave. The realisation hits her like a tonne of bricks.
“We need some music,” he said pulling out his phone, “ listen closely to this one.”
Her head is still reeling from his previous statement, the alcohol she’s consumed not helping her case either, but she nods nonetheless.
As the song plays she swears that it’s a confession of some sort. There’s no way it can’t be. A gasp leaves her as the chorus plays, her heart skips a beat and tears burn her eyes. She doesn’t dare look at him now.
Pain hits her as the song ends. That’s a love confession of some sort, and nothing could convince her otherwise. She finally looks at him, bitter smile on her face,
“Thank you,” she finally breathes.
Overwhelmed by some sort of emotion, she reaches out and pulls him close. She kisses him, pouring every bit of emotion into that single action. Did he understand it? He pulls away first,
“Don’t worry about it,” he simply picks up another cigarette and lights it up. She can’t look away from his eyes in the glow of the lighter’s flame. Golden brown framed by extensive eyelashes, eyes that might never mirror the intensity of hers. Eyes that aren’t meant to look at her with that intensity.
The song playing in the background fades away as they both put out their cigarettes. He turns to her with a face void of emotion. She’s never been able to tell what he’s thinking. But she knows he’s leaving and she desperately needs him to stay. She needs to make sure that she’s not making up the whole thing in her head. But she knows he can’t stay. Would he have stayed if he could?
Her hand lingers on his arm for a moment longer than it should have, her eyes follow him out. A sob tears itself from her throats when he’s out of sight. The calm that had previously settled around her, shatters like the illusion it is.
Maybe in another life, she could’ve have had him,
Maybe in some paradise, he could’ve held up his promise of giving her the stars.