To every broken heart in here, love was once a part, but now it's disappeared.
-Last Train Home by Lostprophets.
Glancing out the window, he fogged it up with his breath, giving himself a nice little space to draw. He raised his index finger to the window, first drawing a stickman with spiky out-of-control hair. Next to the little man he drew a stickwoman wearing a mini-skirt. After that, he drew a broken-hearted symbol over the head of the stickman with a few question marks over the stickwoman's head. Suddenly feeling a surge of anger, he wiped away the two figures and looked away, staring in front of him again.
He had left his hometown to go after the girl he loved more than anything in the world. She had left him two, maybe three years ago with promises that she would return and would continue to keep in touch. Over those years, he wrote her letters, waiting for a reply. A letter finally came to him, just last month. One single letter with one single line.
Come find me.
Along with it came an address for a city on the other side of the district, almost eleven hours away. A sense of hope filled him as he kept the address close to him. He saved all of his money from his paycheck that month, refusing to spend any of it on more food or clothing or the basic necessities of life. The month flew by and he found himself hopping a boat, taxi, and train, heading out to the given address. Arriving on the doorstep of the apartment building, he was tired, he was hungry, and he probably smelled funny; and yet, he felt a strange sense of accomplishment just being there.
A tanned hand reached out, quivering slightly as a finger jammed the doorbell in. It rang throughout the apartment and he stood back, waiting…watching…hoping.
The door swung open and a taller man came into his line of vision. The taller brunet stared down at the other boy, raising an eyebrow.
"May I help you?" he started to say before he was interrupted by her.
"Oh! I didn't think you would come!" she exclaimed from behind the other man, giving him a good look over. He stood rooted in his spot, taking in the sight of the girl entangled in the other man's arms. Drawing in a sharp breath, he shook his head.
"Can we talk?" he asked her. "Alone," he added, giving the older man a pointed stare. She nodded and sent the other inside with a kiss on the cheek, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the door and looked him over.
"I see you've gotten more handsome than the last time I saw you," she started out casually, smiling at him. He remained in shock, staring at her in disbelief.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in a low voice, afraid to speak any louder in fear of either screaming or crying at her.
"Tell you what?" she inquired, smoothing out the fabric of her skirt. He shook his head and his voice began shaking despite himself.
"You…and I…when did you meet him?" he managed to choke out, wrapping one arm over his flat abdomen and grabbing a hold of the other. She scuffed her toe along the floor of the hallway, looking down at her feet.
"Almost a year ago…we moved in together almost three months ago," she informed him. A small whimper escaped his throat and he shuddered, resembling a puppy that had just been kicked: hard.
"You could have said something to me…" he whispered, suddenly looking up at her. "You could have written, or called, or even came back like you promised!" he declared loudly, staring at her closely. She looked up as well, frowning slightly.
"I didn't think you would mind…" she trailed off. He threw his hands in the air in exasperation then.
"I wouldn't mind? You thought I wouldn't mind? I have loved and waited for you for three years and you thought that I wouldn't mind that you had someone new? Do you have any idea what it's like to spend day after day wondering what that special someone is doing, right at that moment? To wonder if they're all right…if they're happy?" Here he stopped to catch his breath. A choked sob burst forth and silent tears began streaming down his cheeks.
"Well, I'm here as an example of what happens! I sacrificed everything in hopes that you would come home. I gave up all chances of happiness because I believed that you were going to come back, just like you promised. But you never came back, did you?" He spat out, glaring at her harshly through his tears. He shook his head in disgust.
"No…it was a damn pie-crust promise. Easy to make, easy to break." He sniffed loudly and ran a hand through his already-haphazard locks.
"Let me explain," she began to protest, but he stopped her with one cold look.
"Don't bother. I get it. Your message got through loud and clear." He let out a shaky laugh. "Selph was right…I shouldn't have waited so long."
"Look, I didn't mean to hurt you like this! How was I to know that you loved me? You never said anything! That's why I moved on," she cut him off. "You weren't the only one dealing with unrequited love issues. I just chose to solve mine differently. I still love and cherish you…but it's too late." He gave her one last long, hard stare, shaking his head and sighing.
"No, I understand. Whatever, I just want you to be happy," he said with a rather pained smile. He pushed himself away from the wall of the corridor and began to walk off.
"…I really am sorry," she called after him. He looked back and smirked rather bitterly.
"Well, it's like you just said. I still love and cherish you, but it's too late," he repeated her mark from just moments ago. With another shake of his head, he disappeared around the corner and thundered down the stairs, wanting nothing more than to escape the memories of what had just happened.
So here he sat on a long lonely train ride home. He had managed to catch the last train home before the station shut down for the night.
'But,' he thought to himself as he leaned his head back against the seat. 'Is it really worth it to go home? What do I even have at home anymore? Sure, I have a few friends…and my mom, but is that really enough?' He sighed and stared out the window again.
'Ngh, whoever said that absence makes the heart grow fonder was obviously on crack.' He growled quietly, suddenly feeling quite frustrated by his foolish actions. Did he honestly believe that she would be waiting for him when he arrived, three years later? Or was it just a childish fantasy that he wanted to cling to for so long?
"Hmm…wonder what to do now. Selphie's gonna bombard me with questions as soon as I get home…but what am I actually going to say? 'Yeah, she decided to unknowingly crush my heart and I just blew all of my money for the month to go find her. I'm perfectly fine!'" He sighed quietly, tracing his fingers over the glass window.
"You seem troubled," another voice spoke from somewhere above his head. He looked away from the window and to his left, eyes landing on another boy not much older than himself. Flowing silver hair came down to his shoulders and bright, almost unnatural, aquamarine eyes blinked down at him.
"Hmm? Oh…it's nothing," he replied to the stranger. Said stranger smirked and pointed at the window.
"Nice drawing," he commented, referring to the now-smeared stick people. The younger male blushed slightly and finished wiping off the remains of the stick figures. The silver-locked one tilted his head and motioned to the empty seat next to the brunet.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked. The other boy couldn't do anything other than nod dumbly and move over a bit so that the stranger had some room. The taller boy stepped forward, sat down, and turned in his seat to face him all in one fluid graceful movement. "So now, wanna share what's on your mind?" he began, leaning his shoulder against the seat.
"Do I know you?" the smaller boy blurted out, raising a dark eyebrow at the newcomer. The green-eyed male chuckled slightly and shook his head.
"No, of course not."
"Well then, why would I tell you what's going on?" he snapped, agitated blue eyes narrowing at the paler boy. The older looked at his watch and then back at the tanned boy.
"Because this train ride lasts another three hours or so. Besides, as stated before, you seem troubled. How are you supposed to enjoy the last train home if you're not happy?" the stranger countered back, waiting for a response. The brunet looked down at his hands, avoiding the piercing green eyes.
"You wouldn't understand…" he said truthfully. Biting his lip, he glanced up at the pale boy again. He seemed to be the type that had never experienced heartbreak or rejection of any type; one of those 'gets whatever he wants' types. Striking green eyes widened and a smirk appeared on the other boy's lips.
"Yeah? Try me," he challenged. The tanned boy shifted in his seat and looked up at him through his dark lashes.
"Well…" he started off, stalling for time to think. The silver-haired boy looked at the window again.
"Let me guess. You went to go visit your girlfriend and she's got somebody new," he drawled out, looking back into the blue eyes. He blinked in surprise at how accurate the newcomer was.
"Er, she wasn't my girlfriend…but…"
"I suppose," the smaller boy sighed. "Point being, she's been gone for a long time and she never said that she had a new boyfriend and now I'm going home empty-handed and…"
"Heart-broken?" the taller boy supplied. The brunet nodded slowly and looked out the window. The other noticed this and raised an eyebrow.
"How old are you, kid?" he asked. The shorter brunet snapped his head back and stared at him defiantly.
"For your information, I'm 18!" he declared. The other boy blinked and snorted, snickering to himself.
"Just turned huh?"
"…maybe. Is it really that obvious?" The tanned boy's ego dropped shortly. A nod confirmed it. "Crap."
"Well how old are you, Mr. Bigshot?"
"…woo, big difference," the blue-eyed boy rolled his eyes. The silver-haired stranger leaned back against his seat, looking forward.
"It is, actually. You must have just moved out on your own. I've been living on my own since I was 17."
"See, the thing is, you're still naïve and innocent. That's why you're hurt by the whole thing."
"Yeah? How would you know that?"
"Just trust me on it, all right?"
"…I'm listening," the brunet said, waiting for the other boy to go on in his speech.
"This is the first time you've been hurt before, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so." He shrugged in response.
"You just gotta build a spine. That's all there is to it. There's still tomorrow…forget the sorrow and try and move on. Life is going to be miserable if you don't try fixing it." He twirled a lock of silver hair around his index finger as he spoke.
"Maybe I don't want to fix things. Ever think of that?" A pout settled on the round tan face.
"And why wouldn't you want to fix things? Don't you want things to change?"
"Not particularly. I mean, she was my best friend for so many years before she moved away. I don't wanna throw that away."
"Are you sure that those memories aren't wrong?"
"Why would they?"
"You never know." The two sat in silence, one staring out the window and the other staring at the other boy. Finally the brunet spoke up.
"I give up." A silver eyebrow arched at him.
"Love. I decided that it's not worth it. I have no reason to fall in love ever again anyway." The blue-eyed male sighed, staring out the window sullenly. The green-eyed male snorted at his younger companion's logic.
"It was one romance gone wrong. You can't quit all together; life just doesn't work like that," he explained as calmly as he could, never letting his eyes leave the brunet.
"Well why not?" the brunet shot back, turning away from the window to stare at the other boy. "Don't you believe in destiny? Soul mates? Anything like that?"
"Oh, of course I do, I never said I didn't."
A heavy sigh followed that. "She and I...we were soul mates. I could have sworn on my life that we were. But I guess not now..." he trailed off. The older boy nodded and cupped the younger's face in the palm of his hand.
"You know…back in my hometown, there's this old wives' tale that's been around for as long as I can remember…even longer than that. Anyway, it's about a special star-shaped fruit called a papou. It's rumored that if you share the papou with someone you care about deeply, your destinies become intertwined." He ran a thumb over the tanned cheek, watching as the blue eyes widened in marvel at the tale.
"Have you ever tried it?" he asked, glancing up at the other boy curiously. Silver hair moved breezily as he shook his head.
"Not yet. The point is, that's one of the ways to determine who your soul mate is and to control your own destiny. And I don't know about you, but I like being in charge of my own fate."
"…yeah. Me too," the brunet reasoned, nodding to himself. The other boy opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off by a whistle, signaling that the next stop was coming up. A small smirk graced his features and he pulled his hand away from the younger boy's face.
"Well, this is my stop," he said and reached for his backpack.
"Really?" a quiet voice came from the smaller boy's lips, watching every movement the other boy made. A nod confirmed his fear.
"Yep. But before I go, can I offer you a word of advice?"
"Um, go ahead," the brunet replied. The green-eyed boy smiled mischievously and leaned forward, capturing the younger boy in a passionate kiss. Too shocked to do anything other than sit still, the brunet waited to see what the next move would be. The silver-haired boy licked the corner of the tanned boy's mouth, prodding his lips open. Gasping at the sudden contact, the blue-eyed male opened his mouth and soon felt a tongue mingling with his own.
'I need this. I really need this.' He said to himself and began kissing back, slowly but surely. The paler taller boy pulled away and smiled quietly, leaning forward enough to brush his nose with the other's.
"I think you're without a reason to never fall in love again," he whispered and stood up, a package falling from his bag into the seat he had just occupied. The train slowed to a stop and the older male made his way off the train, heading out into the station. Blue eyes followed him until he disappeared into the crowd, all traces of silver and green gone. The train started moving again and he looked forward, glancing at the seat next to him. It was then he noticed a brown paper bag sitting on the seat, seemingly watching him right back.
"What's this?" he asked himself, picking up the package. He allowed his eyes to quickly scan the area for any signs of being watched. Feeling the relief of being alone, he cautiously opened the bag and reached inside. Feeling something rather wet and slimy, he jerked his hand back in surprise.
"Ew!" he exclaimed and opened the bag wider, peering into it. Sitting at the bottom appeared to be a fruit of some sort, half-eaten and dripping with juice. He took a deep breath and reached in again, pulling the fruit out this time. Examining it in the light, he took in the yellow skin and the points of the fruit. Flipping it over in his hand, he continued looking it over. He wasn't sure what it was, since it was only half. But for some odd reason, it really did resemble,
"Half of a star…" he whispered. The old tale came back to him instantly and he studied the fruit curiously. Sniffing it, he took in the sweet citrus-y scent of the tropical islands. Looking out the window, he watched as the train left the town that the stranger had entered, leaving him alone once again.
"Without a reason…" he spoke quietly to himself, breaking off a piece of the fruit. He popped the piece into his mouth, chewing contently and looking out the window as the last train home continued its journey.
So yes, this was inspired by the song Last Train Home by Lostprophets. I really like the message that the song sends and stupid Sora-muse wouldn't shut up until I wrote this for him. Oh well.
Thanks to Gaby for reading over this to see how it would work out.