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nullaria · 1 year

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From friends to strangers, then to lovers. (Part 1)

Ten years. That's how long I've known her. Six of which I've had a one-sided love for her.

I first saw her when I transferred to their neighborhood, and while I wish we were neighbors, I wasn't so lucky to live next door to her. She was learning how to ride her pink, frilly bike in the park across from our house with her dad, and all I could think about was how she could touch the pedals, given that the kid's bike seemed bigger than her.

Our first meeting was when I transferred to their school. I was placed in her class, and she was sitting in front. The teacher introduced me as usual and told me to sit in the empty seat at the back.

When the break came, I remember her approaching me first and telling me my name was meant for boys, which must mean that I was too. I was stunned, not because of her comment but because of how small she was up close and how big her eyes were that one could get lost in them.

"Well, only babies are that small. Does that mean you're a baby?" I responded without breaking eye contact.

It was then that our so-called friendship started. After that, a day didn't go by without her complaining about me and me returning the favor.

Years passed, and we continued our antics. While we've spent almost every day bickering, there wasn't a day where we were separated. It was like the people around us knew we were a package deal. They'd pair us up during projects, our seats would always be close to each other, and we'd always be signed up for the same activities.

Even if I hated being paired with her for everything, she became an irreplaceable part of my life before I knew it.

One day, when we were nine, her parents signed her up for a kid's pageant in the town square. She invited me, of course, not because she wanted me to support her but to prove that she wasn't a baby despite her small stature.

I was so confident in myself that she wouldn't be able to convince me otherwise, but when I saw her walk up on stage, it was then I understood what beauty was.

She looked beautiful despite her childish, pink, frilly dress. Her walk across the stage oozed with confidence no baby could ever produce. The way she smiled, the way she talked, the way. . . She was just perfect.

I didn't want to be like her; I wanted to be with her. I wanted to keep seeing that smile, keep seeing her confidence, keep seeing her.

While I didn't realize I was in love until much later, I knew that seeing her on stage that day made me fall for her.

Fast forward to when we entered middle school, we continued to bicker over the most minor things. For example, she would constantly nag about how I don't care for my appearance while I always pick on her height.

I thought our relationship would always be like this. But all things change eventually, especially in middle school. Girls started to care more about boys and appearances, while boys wanted to look better for girls.

It was also around this time that we started to have different hobbies. I ventured into sports while she ventured into singing and boy bands. Despite this, we remained close and spent time at each other's houses. While I didn't like the makeover she did in her room, sleepovers were still a thing between us.

Of course, I didn't mind the boy band posters and cut-out pictures of actresses from magazines on her walls. I love her smile whenever she sings and talks about how she wants to look when she grows up. What I didn't like was boys started noticing her more and more.

I knew she was becoming prettier as the years passed, but I didn't need the boys reminding me about it and forcing me to introduce them to her.

But I figured I couldn't monopolize her forever.

One day when we were 13, I found her talking to a boy I used to play volleyball with behind the schoolyard. Since the boy left with a massive smile, I could only assume it went well.

I admit that I'm oblivious to most things, but I know what a confession looks like. It is one of the things I've dreamt of doing to her, after all. I've lost count of the number of letters I've written in preparation for the time I finally confess to her, but someone beat me to it.

I don't remember much that year aside from giving her the space she needs to spend with her boyfriend. I wish I could say I was keeping my distance because I'm such a good friend, but I wasn't. Instead, I was bitter, sad, and jealous.

Bitter because she accepted the guy's confession without telling me she was receiving love letters in the first place.

Sad because I had to give her away to some guy who can't even receive a spike properly.

And extremely jealous of the guy who could call her his girlfriend.

But I regret it.

I regret not confessing first.

I regret distancing myself.

And most of all, I regret letting her go.

Halfway through our senior year, she was invited to study music in Europe. She was so excited that her family hosted a party for this achievement. She's always dreamed of singing on a big stage, and the invitation was a big step for her career.

I wanted to be happy for her, but for some reason, I couldn't. All I could think about was how this was godsent for her to follow her boyfriend in Europe, who left earlier that year to pursue his volleyball career.

She must have been pleased about it, so as a good friend, I convinced her to leave as early as possible. The least I could do was let her be with her boyfriend as soon as possible, right? I knew she had missed him since he left.

Okay, that was a lie.

The thought of her leaving to be with someone else broke my heart. I knew it was unreasonable to think she was leaving to be with her boyfriend, but my immature mind always drifted to that idea.

Just when I thought that things could finally go back to how they were when her boyfriend left, knowing that our days together were numbered was too much for me to bear.

And so, she left. She left with tears in her eyes as I waved her goodbye with the brightest smile I could muster.

And that was the last time I saw her. While we communicated as frequently as possible, we slowly grew apart. Not to mention I was scared. So scared that if we continued talking, I wouldn't be able to move on, get over her, and live my life without her.

It's been ten years since she left. I thought that would be the last time I saw her, but I guess I'm still not that lucky.

Today's the reunion for our grade in middle school, and there she is, smiling brightly as she greeted familiar faces with confidence, captivating the crowd with nothing but her presence. Just like all those years ago in the town square of our neighborhood.

Well, it seems ten years isn't nearly enough to make a dent in my feelings for her.

Crap.

#friends to lovers #romance writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #urfriendlywriter #sapphic #writing

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nullaria · 1 year

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As she stood in front of me, the sacrificial knife in hand with the blade pointed at her chest, she closed her eyes with a smile. Ready to accept what was about to come.

I stared at her for a while, looking, hoping to see some sort of remorse or anything aside from peace, but I couldn't.

You really have accepted what you did.

I suppose I must've stared blankly at the knife in her hands since she called out to me after a while. "Mr. Devil?"

". . . Hmm?"

"Weren't. . . Weren't you supposed to like. . . umm. . . do the whole getting-my-soul-type of thing?"

"Ahh, yes. . . Yes, I was." I responded as I took the knife from her hands, "Say. . ."

"Yes, Mr. Devil?" She asked as she fixed her blood-stained clothes in an attempt to look presentable.

I contemplated the words rolling on my tongue for a moment as I fiddled with the knife in one hand, looking down. I stared at the engravings on the blade, unable to bring myself to look at her.

I can't believe I'm thinking this way. What the in the world is wrong with me?! I'm supposed to be a devil, aren't I? I'm supposed to have witnessed all the evil mortals have to offer. I'm supposed to have done things worse than all mankind could've done combined. I'm supposed to be someone who knows exactly how to return the evil the most heinous person could come up with tenfold for punishment. But why?

"Was. . ." No. Don't. Stop Talking!

"Hmm?" She urged me with a small smile as if coaxing a child.

I raised my head and met her gaze, "Was it. . . Was it worth it. . ?" ASDFGHJKL! You really went and asked!

"Was what worth it, Mr. Devil?" She asked with the most innocent look I have ever seen from a sinner.

. . . What? "The. . . The thing. . . The - What you did. Was what you desired worth it?"

As if the answer dawned upon her, her innocent look slowly turned into a smile - one of the brightest smiles I have ever seen.

"Why, of course, Mr. Devil!" She proclaimed as she twirled in place with her arms spread wide open, bathing herself in ecstasy upon fulfilling your heart's desire, "Every single bit of it!"

She then looked at me with eyes filled with genuine gratitude, "And for that, I thank you, Mr. Devil. I wouldn't have been able to do this, any of this for that matter, if it weren't for you!" she continued, gesturing at our horrific surroundings.

Although I expected such an answer, it was still disheartening to hear it from her mouth, "I see. . . " I responded in a resigned voice.

"Then, shall we, Mr. Devil? While I doubt my humble soul would be enough to repay my gratitude, I offer it to you with all my heart!"

"Right. . ." I awkwardly chuckled as I took a step forward.

If it were any other contract, I would've relished this moment of taking a sinner of this caliber with me to Hell.

But for some reason, I hesitated.

I looked at the gruesome scene surrounding us for the last time and shook my head. Then, I took a deep breath, summoning all my courage, and plunged the blade straight at her chest.

. . .

Dear Lucifer, if you can hear this humble servant's wishes. I beg you, don't turn her into one of us.

There's already enough evil to go around in Hell.

As the end of your deal with the devil comes to an end you summon him once more to hand over your immortal soul, you knew what you were getting yourself into from the start and despite it all you are satisfied to end it this way… only the devil seems weirdly reluctant to take your soul now

#writing #writers on tumblr #writblr #writing prompts

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