Broken.

Broken | Drake

Broken - Drake

I saw her again at school today.

She glanced at me once stealthily and walked away before I could even smile. That was the forty-fifth time she did that. I know she was hurt, but so was I. She thought it didn't make any difference to me or my life, but it did.

I saw her smiling more than usual, directed not to me but to Sam. She knew how I loved her smile. She knew I thought she looked beautiful when she smiled. Suddenly her smile faltered, and I could see hurt clear in her eyes as she saw Leah coming towards me.

She hugged me tight, never letting go. But all I could do was return the hug back and stare at the agonized girl in front of me, remembering the way my hands used to circle around her waist and not Leah's. Leah took my arm and started walking towards the exit and I could sense a pair of eyes burning my back. I knew she was hurt, I knew she felt bad, but I didn't know the real reason why.

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We were seated in the bus, me with Leah. And Sam with her.

The flashbacks of us sitting together and ranting, laughing and joking was suffocating me. I tried hard to concentrate on what Leah was saying but I could only see Sam and her having fun, like we used to. She looked amazing. Even in the most normal outfit, she managed to look better than most of the girls. I could see boys turning over to look at her, and I couldn't blame them. It felt nice, looking at an angel. I tuned all thoughts related to her away and started talking to a pissed Leah. The worst part was that we lived only two blocks away. And so, I had to walk down the street with a very enthusiastic Sam who was currently holding her hand and dropping her off like a gentleman. I used to drop her. Everyday, for the past four years.

I see her whisper something into his ear and heard her musical laughter again. She wasn't one of those girls who wouldn't laugh out loud because of their 'society manners'. She was laid back, carefree, funny and cute. Very cute. I cast my eyes down and pretended to not exist as my house came and no one noticed it. I went up to my room and faced my desk on which was an upturned photoframe. I took it in my hands after thinking too much and gazed in those warm brown eyes. It was a photo of me and her. I had to keep it away again, because it was something I couldn't bear to think about I then tried and succeeded in drifting off to a usual night of nightmares and restlessness. Tomorrow would be another day, another way of tormenting me, of telling my heart to move on. 
But whom was I kidding? 
It wasn't something you move on from so easily.