"Do you ever fantasize about me loving you back?" Lea took a seat next to Nick, who was reading Hamlet. The table was empty. He froze and stared back at her.
When he didn't answer, Lea continued. Apparently, she thought about this long and hard. Oh, yes, she thought about this. But not about what Nick would feel.
"Because I've read a lot of fantasy books, played a lot of fantasy games, watched a lot of fantasy shows," Her brown eyes stared blankly into his gold ones. "And no matter how much I want Harry to arrive riding Buckbeak, superheroes to fly in and save the world from crashing and burning, no matter how much I want wands and powers and magic and demons and demon fighters and superheroes to exist..." Nick's mouth hung open, still speechless.
"...they don't. And they won't. No matter how much I pray and hope and wish that they are real, they aren't."
Then Lea got up and walked away. Without turning around, she said quietly, "Fantasy is fantasy. Believe in what you want. But it's not real. So, Nick, in short, I don't love you back."
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I don't know what this is, and it is hurting me. I practically live in fiction. So Lea's just killing me inside. Whoopdeedoo.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Moonlight
Teen Fictiona collection of stories, poems, song-inspired one-shots...with a little bit of everything and a large heaping of love. (cover photo courtesy of weheartit)
