there's no background to this one-shot, jus something i wrote years ago and still love. maybe try imagining this is your crush talking about you 💌
also make sure to follow my other tumblr account @sleepymissy please x
It's quite beautiful; this memory that I have of her.
It's always that memory that rolled in my head, those special days her and I shared at our high school that somehow clashed into one memory altogether. Oh, those cheesy days.
I remember it so vividly, so clearly and yet, it seems to always go so fast. Like, when I finally get the memory pieced together, it vanishes away in mist air and all I have left with me is wonders. It's quite weird how my brain sets this memory out: it never likes to begin with the very first scene, like it wants to immediately get to the best part of the story. I mean, isn't that what every person desires in a story? Brush off the build-up chapters and rush to the drama, where everything seems to just get a bit more intense; our breathing hitches like that air of unsustainability intoxicates our already dry lungs from the couple of short written sentences that we saw before that big paragraph crashes onto us.
And all we're left with is the aftermath.
See? That didn't go for long either.
But it was effective enough to make us believe it went on for ages.
That's exactly how I feel each time I'm overpowered with the familiar image of her.
Her. Oh, I wish so much that I could see her again, everything would have been perfect. But, here I am, messing everything up. I would do anything just to see her again. Or have my arms cage around her from all the bad that tried to get to her in this world, or...or even hear the faint ghost-like echo of her voice calm me when her plump, rosy lips were pressed up against my ear. Telling me nothing except the most gentle, delicate words. Almost sweet like candy to be exact. But, that was what she always smelt like.
There was always this heavy scent of cherries, vanilla and candies that swayed in the air wherever she walked, it was the first thing I could smell when she took a step towards me. It was always there, she was always there. And I knew it was always her. Who else could possess you ever so innocently with just a delicate pump of a perfume bottle?
I think about it every day, never once do I stop replaying it in my mind. The memory is planted there forever like thorns and roses and it gets harder everyday to even just thinking about letting it go. But, although it's such a sickeningly sweet memory of my life, it's something I need to get rid of. To forget.
It's as if my subconscious is begging to stop me from forgetting it, maybe there's a meaning behind it all that I've missed out on and can't quite place my own damn finger on it. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. What possibly could be so important about such a small memory?
Maybe...maybe it's just trying to tell me that I love her.