I actually wrote this quite a while ago. It's been in my folders for what seems like forever. I'm not even sure if I like how I wrote this, but I figured I would post it anyway, just in case I could get some type of feedback on it. ------------------------------- He doesn't look at her. "Look at me," she demands. He looks for a mere second; turns away just as fast. "Why won't you look at me?" Because every time he looks at her, he doesn't see her. Her face changes features, her hair becomes a dirty shade of blonde. She becomes him. He shrugs the question off, taking her in his arms. She allows her once bitter appearance to become that of playful surprise. "Are we-?" She isn't able to complete her question. He presses his lips against hers in a harsh manner, slowly allowing himself to believe that she is really him. She pulls away. The details that create his face disperse, and he's left with her. All of her. "What's wrong?" she coos softly into his ear. He turns away, climbing out of the bed. "It's nothing," he mutters as his legs swiftly carry him towards the bathroom. The door slams shut behind him. He's to the toilet in an instant. Whatever little food he had that day is heaved up. Walking over to the sink, he splashes water on his face, attempting to rid himself of this continuous nightmare. It will never be that easy, though, will it? The memory of him - and everything they could have been - will continue to linger with him. He walks back into the bedroom; hears soft snores and can't help but allow for an abrupt laugh to escape through his pursed lips. He doesn't bother pulling the covers back; just lays on top of them - can't bare the thought of there being nothing between him and her. As he closes his eyes, just before he drifts off to sleep, he wonders if she knows everything.
