Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: This is my first drabble and it's pretty different from my normal writing style - or at least the normal writing style that I would normally share. It's very stream-of-consciousness in style.
It's also extremely angsty, so consider yourselves warned.
No characters are named, but it is written from Sofia's POV, and her observations/feelings regarding Sara.
I see it burning there behind your eyes, searing into me. Branding me.
Scorched flesh. Charred and damaged. We are nothing except casualties now. Casualties – or perhaps walking wounded… our wounds scars and one day – nothing. A slight mark on our skin the only indication.
But now, I see nothing but white heat behind your eyes. The pain is fresh. It's real. It lingers between us like your perfume the morning after…
I look into your eyes and see your pain.
I look into your eyes and see my own reflected back.
I look into your eyes and see our past – ashes now, scorched ruins of a passion we thought would last and last and…
I look into your eyes and remember.
I look into your eyes and try to forget.
You sigh across the layout table and I look up – our eyes accidentally locked in a battle of wills. Who will look away first? Who will keep right on looking?
An accusation lingers there. You know.
You know my inner conflict. You know of my attempt to put you in my past. Locked in a heart-shaped box with all my other regrets.
How can I relegate you to the past when you still intrude on my future?
Nervously, you tuck a strand of chestnut hair behind your ear. And I see it.
I see it.
I see you.
It wasn't an accusation after all. The look is recognition. Contrition. Absolution.
You've been trying to forget me too.
You have your own box. Worn with use. There I sit as you attempt to lock me in.
It's not so easy. Is it?