Inkling | rejected & unpublished short stories

Love You Like

"I love you like a cardigan," she told Carr after stuffing a half-bitten cupcake into her mouth, putting one hand below her chin to stop the crumbs from tumbling down her white shirt. She looked up to catch him grinning at her with that close-mouthed smile. Frowning, she stood up, with her mouth full and all. Carr stood with his arms crossed, leaning back as he observed her push the food in her mouth to one cheek, "Did you hear me?" she asked, making him blink. He was disoriented, being snapped away from his trance. Her frown grew deeper at the sides as she noticed that he was not paying attention, "Tell me what I said just now."

            He bit his lip, changing his posture, "You said you love me?"

            "I said," Kiera sighed, crumpling the cupcake wrapper in the insides of her palm. The folds ruptured, she felt the paper cower in her hands, "I said I love you like a cardigan." He trailed after her as she walked towards the dustbin, looking like a lost puppy.

            "Kiera, what does that even mean?"

            It meant that she loved him too much. No matter how many cardigans a girl could own, she would always be guilty for keeping a favourite and loving it more than she loved the other cardigans. Preferably, the favoured cardigans would be the darker coloured ones, the one that matched every single drab shirt. Not only just matched most of the time, but made the drab look authentic, fancy even. She loved him because he brought out the best in her, like her favourite cardigan.

            "Go figure out yourself," she said to Carr.

            He wanted to sigh but held it back. He was afraid that if he exhaled his aggravation, it would escape his grip and grow into something that could destroy what the both of them had. Smiled, every single time, letting the curiosity amuse him instead of annoying him.

            "Kiera," he called out, softly since she had that hard mask on. He knew more than anyone not to fight hard with hard. He still had no inkling of what she meant by saying that she loved him like a cardigan but he could guess that it was something sweet and thoughtful. Carr loved her for that.

            "You want to drop by to the bookstore after this?" he asked, sounding excited for her. Her ears perked up at the offer and the irritation melted off her face like ice in room temperature. He loathed the bookstore for the smell, allergic to dust but this was how he showed his love for Kiera.

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            "I love you like a hairband," she blurted out one day as he pushed her on the swing.

            "Kiera, what does that even mean?"

            She blew loudly through her mouth. It meant that she would remember and cherish him like a lost hairband. No matter how many hairband a girl owned and lost, she would always remember the prominent ones. A girl would remember the hairband that had stayed with them for long months instead of the ones that went missing in just mere days. She would cherish the ones with frills and the ones they spent an extra penny on. Biased, on things that served the same, which is just to keep the hair in place. But that was how it works. She loved him and she knew that even if one day she would lose him, she would still treasure him. Evergreen, like the memory of a hairband.

            "Go figure out yourself," she said, halting the swing with a touch of her feet on the asphalt. She sighed and did not look annoyed this time, just disappointed. She gestured to Carr to sit beside her on the swing.

            It pained Carr how he was completely aware that she was trying to be sweet but had nothing to say back. He could not proclaim that he loved her like a shirt because he never loved any of his shirts. Maybe he should think harder. Harder than the thought that he deleted every single conversation on his phone except theirs.

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            Kiera had leaves on her head, tangled in the trusses and the back of her ear. It was not on purpose—maybe she had walked under that tree with the small leaves and weak branches instead of using the paved long way again—but she looked like a fairy in disguise. She was scrutinizing at her shoes, jamming her toes on the front part of her torn shoe to stick them together. Carr chuckled as he watched her mumbling before proceeding to stomp away. She did not say anything nor did he.

            Carr knew she might wonder how he could easily strike up a conversation with strangers but shared so much silence with her. He hoped she noticed no matter how many inside jokes he shared with everyone, he would never share his silence. Unless with her. He loved her like an exception and sometimes that was not enough to prove. Maybe, maybe the way he loved her was close enough to what Kiera meant when she said that she loved him like a cardigan and a hairband.

            "Kiera," he called out, making her look up, wide eyed and snapped out of her daydream and all.

            "I love you like I love you."

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