☆ Love you goodbye I

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• Heartbreak carries it's own brand of tragedies, one being where the sinners are two, of the crime that is one •

Part I

Part I

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“So, this is it?” June foiled her vision astray. She gloated away from her entire life, her everything—it being a glamorous metaphor. Alas, Harry was out of sight.

June was lending away her heart to her one and only. Just because what's broken can't be flawless. But it can sure be replaced.

Harry breathed in with an irons hand, tears on the brink of scrolling down like a readers eyes ebbing for some extravagant paragraphs. Even in these sorrowful scheme of moments, he was holding back. Holding back onto those ugly sobs of his, the ferocious cries withering to escape his soul. But they were firmly reserved for the laconic nights which were threatening to ruin his daylights. Demolish whatever which was left of him.

No matter what, he had promised himself, he wasn't to cry. I won't cry in front of her. He didn't want to admit that his insides had already collapsed. That his heart was already in fragments. And it won't be flawless ever again. Not even after taping it back to all the right places. He was a shattered canvas.

June perceived better. She knew his heart was down the devil's grave; hell, her own was in pieces. She knew he wouldn't let anybody mend his tiny shambles besides her. And June, herself, wasn't capable to. So, simply being humble, she was giving away her cracked heart to her one and only even though it was crumbling. Just because what's broken can't be flawless.

But it can sure be replaced.

“This—This is it.” Harry confirmed with a gush of clamour, no louder than the brushes of their intakes. Harry couldn't believe it. This is it, he thought. That wasn't a reply. He was trying to convince himself.

June failed to notice his starstruck gesture. She was looking afar. It was barely possible, she was somewhere far away from here. Partially lost in her La La Land of memories that once managed to enhance her Mondays and entertain her Fridays. June was in denial, herself. This was it.

“Harry, I asked you a question.” She hissed again, an impulse, a reflex for not hearing a reply. A confirmation was what she demanded. She clenched her jaw making him clench his in return.

“There's nothing to say. You've made everything clear.” Harry snapped back, provoked. June turned away from the bed to viciously gaze at him. How dare he make this about him, she collected.

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