Eye Drops (#2)

e y e d r o p s

Because he loved her. He loved her more than ice cream, more than his job, more than anything in the world. Unrequited love seemed unavoidable- but it was about to be avoided, Tristan thought to himself with a smirk, because he was going to rock up on Christmas Day and deliver better presents than Santa ever could.

It's going to be perfect, concluded Tristan, as he swiftly grabbed his car keys and pushed open the glass door, to reveal the thick layer of snow that he would fight his way through.

Meanwhile, Faith's concentration was primarily focused on Fletcher, who was half-guiding and half-dragging her down the steps of the rooftop. She stumbled blindly, almost smacking her face into the left wall. "Dude, watch it! What are you doing?!"

"Hey, I'm trying my best!" Fletcher protested, gripping Faith's wrist with renewed force and increasing his speed, positively hurtling down the stairs at this point. "I tried a diplomatic approach, then I tried bribing you with ice cream, so now I'm choosing to use brute force. You can't blame me, it's pretty damn effective!"

"Yeah- but like-" Faith paused between each phrase to avoid tripping over each stair after the next. "Seriously, Fletcher? Seriously?!"

"Here you are!" Fletcher said cheerfully once they had reached the end of the steps. Faith, who was panting heavily and leaning against the wall for support, choked out a wheezy protest. Fletcher, on the other hand, wasn't even winded. Jeez, was that kid on drugs?! "Go. Dance. Now."

He gently shoved Faith towards a doorway, but forgot that she could barely see anything ahead of her. The result of that was that she catapulted into the wall, actually smacking her nose against solid surface this time. Paint chips rained around the duo, slowly fluttering down until they scattered onto the carpet.

"Fletcher..." Faith said threateningly, turning to face the culprit, who now looked terrified. "If you don't want a death sentence, I suggest you scram in the next three seconds."

"Sāyonara!" was Fletcher's final word before his long legs, followed by the rest of his lanky body, whipped around the corner and as far away from the seething Faith as possible.

It took her a couple of minutes to recover, as she rubbed her tender nose and cursed out Fletcher under her breath with some of the more innocent profanities in the English language- 'stupid grasshole ', 'clumsy cockroach' and 'ducking moron'. Jeez, first she had to dance on Christmas Day, and now she had to do it with a bruised nose?! Well, this was just turning out to be a jolly good time, wasn't it?

Her thoughts slowly drifted to how Tristan was doing- was he okay? Did he board the plane? Did it explode? Although she had tried to keep her tone with him as lighthearted as possible, there was still that underlying misery infused into her words. Why? Why had Fletcher and Emily gotten their happy ending? Why not Faith and Tristan? It was so unfair! The world was unfair sometimes, yes, but some were just condemned to a depressing fate that was deemed unchangeable.

Because the truth was, she loved Tristan. Faith admitted it, she was jealous of his intelligence, his kindness, his purity. Who cares if they hadn't met yet? True love need not bless the eyes in order to blossom. It was a shame, since Faith knew that Aimee and Delilah- her friends, would have loved him- but only if he was popular too. Yet Faith was secretly ecstatic that she had Tristan to herself, since he was the hidden gem in her life.

As though fate itself had read her mind, just as Faith stepped through the doorway Fletcher had almost pushed her through, two familiar faces popped up in front of her. Surprised, Faith stumbled slightly before regaining her composure and gasping at the friends she hadn't seen in so long.