RUBY

Chapter Thirty Three: When Reality Hits

"Will you remember my touch when he pulls your soul into his?".

Ｒｕｂｙ'ｓ　ＰＯＶ　英若ぇ

"Lisa, can I ask you a question?".

"Hmm?".

"Why did you want to be a writer?".

I found myself curious when I asked her. Not knowing what was the reason for the fault in our stars—or why I had an interest in knowing things about her. But, Lisa didn't push me away. Her soothing voice calmed the chaos inside of my heart, despite the storm that has settled upon it.

"Writing was never my strong suit or something I was particularly enthusiastic about actually".

"Really?".

"Yes".

"It is said that the more one reads, the better the writer becomes. I don't believe that is the case with me; I still consider myself a poor writer, and my thoughts would scatter like billiard balls in all directions". She turned her head to the side and genuinely smiled at me, there I go melting again as she spoke.

"There are days when I feel compelled to write for no apparent reason; sometimes I understand them, and other times they baffle me".

"Did writing.. save you?".

I was careful with my words.

"Yes, I'd say I write most of the time out of emotion - and it's usually negative rather than joyful emotions like a lot of people do. I don't seek happiness in words, rather inform people of reality". She paused.

"Maybe negative isn't the right term for what I'm looking for. I suppose what I'm referring to are "difficult" feelings, those that push and tug me apart. Half of the time, I don't know what I'm trying to say or how I feel when I start writing; all I know is that it's forcing me to negotiate comprehension through words".

I hummed in return and questioned, "A sort of healing?".

"For me, writing is a form of catharsis, but not in the traditional sense of healing. It's a healing that's designed to make things clearer rather than better".

Then she whispered, "And it's only once things become clear to me that I can heal from them".

"Writing to still heal?".

Lisa pressed her lips together like a little baby who was hesitating to speak, I found it adorable. "I write for a variety of reasons, some of which are more habitual than others. The thoughts that are constantly, desperately swimming about in my head require an outlet, a voice, and an expression. It's as if I'm just a machine that represents them, methodically churning out line after sentence and spinning a web of concepts, truly".

"And now you will let the world hear you". I muttered, biting back a smile at her sweet gestures—like holding my hand on hers when we laid there, after pleasure.. and the pain that comes of it. The realization, ecstasy and the madness of it.

"I write because my voice can be heard more clearly in written words than it can in spoken language".

She played with my fingers, "In a society where everyone wants to express themselves, I've discovered that writing is the perfect fit for my personality, and it's my favourite way of self-expression".

"An ideal way of expression". She nodded at what I said and proceeded.

"Writing is the ideal canvas on which I may write my thoughts, color in my dreams, and paint my perspective using a palette of words". She looked at our hands, "I also like dancing".

I smirked at her, "That's sexy".

"You haven't seen me dance yet".

"Maybe someday". She laughed.

I got up, weakly and told her. "It's my cue to leave, had fun with you today".

Disappointment fell upon her face. I wanted to take it back, to tell her that I will stay. But, we would rather question ourselves with a sharp rise in our reality. She knows I can't stay.

Yet, Lisa's voice stopped me.

"Hey Ruby?".

I turned to look at her.

To look at her doe eyes.

How darkness and kindness can pour from someone like that—amazed me, made me even hold my breath. But it would be useless. "I wanted to invite you to an event in the company, that also entails my book's publishing".

"If that's okay with you, I would like you to be there".

I bit my bottom lip and stood in front of her, "You want me to be there?".

She nodded, rather feeling embarrassed for asking. I raised myself by my feet to reach her height and kissed her gently. Emotions clouding me—The kiss was short and sweet, unlike the ones we've had. I had to pull away, she was stunned.

"Does that answer you?". I asked with a raised brow.

Lisa stood there, looking at me with an expression I couldn't read. That same expression was the one when she tenderly kissed me, a violent rush through my body and soul. Everything about her was different—she seemed to know the extremes of the world and still smile at me. Like I wasn't just someone she desires.

I didn't wait for her to answer.

I couldn't be here.