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[1/7]

"I don't hate her, because she makes you smile like an angel."



"Yuki, this is [Name]. [Name], meet Yuki."


[Name] bowed her head politely as she addressed the slender and gentle brown haired woman on Itachi's arm, whose hair flowed like a luscious, abundant river of milky chocolate, and whose light, hazel eyes smiled so brightly that they outshone the rest of her beauty. She noted that Yuki perfectly complemented the raven haired Uchiha, who was undoubtedly pleased with the woman's presence. [Name] felt a pang of jealousy in her stomach, but willed herself to look Yuki in the eyes anyway. She barely knew the woman, and already, [Name] envied her and her ineffable beauty and grace. She hated the way her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back like a perfect silken road, she hated the way her eyes twinkled brighter than a lone star in the dark, midnight sky. She hated the way her mere presence made Itachi smile, the smile that belonged to her, once upon a time. She hated everything about the woman.


But she didn't hate her. 


"Hello, Yuki," she said, forcing a smile, and bowing her head at the woman as she sat alone at a table in the food court. Hands under the table top, [Name] clenched and unclenched her fists at the sight of Itachi and whom she assumed to be his newfound love. It had already been six months since [Name] and Itachi had gone their separate ways, but to the former, the pain was still raw in her heart.


"Hello, [Name], it's nice to meet you," said Yuki gracefully, nodding at [Name] as she and Itachi kept their arms interlocked. "It's an honour to meet you, Itachi's told me so much."


"Oh, really?" [Name] did her best not to glance at the Uchiha in curiosity, but doing so meant that she had to keep her eyes locked on Yuki instead, and neither choice seemed promising to her. Yuki nodded with a small smile.


"Yes. You've done so much for him, I'd think anyone who's able to call you a friend would be lucky," complimented Yuki. Once again, [Name] forced her infamous false smile, and Itachi coughed, recognising it from a mile away.


"Well, I think it's time to go now, don't you, Yuki?" he chirped, raising his wrist and taking a brief look at his watch, noting how much the intensity between he and [Name] was growing. "We'll be late for the movie." Yuki nodded in agreement, and bade farewell to [Name]. All she received from Itachi was a curt nod, and then the couple were gone. [Name] was left at her table, staring down at her full tray of food she had purchased for lunch. She didn't know whether she had lost her appetite, or whether she wanted to gorge on food so much that she couldn't breathe. All that she knew was that she was sick, sick to the stomach, sick to the core. She wanted to do a lot of things, such as cry, scream, vomit, and flip the table. She wanted to do a lot of things.


But she didn't.


She just sat there, and, against her will, thought about Itachi.


But no tears fell. Six months of tears and wallowing in remorse had sucked her dry, and even now, her eyes were empty, blank. Her eyes were lifeless, and shed no more emotion other than complacency.

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