I finally did it. I kissed him. If only it was a good thing.
***
I felt butterflies and anything good surge through my body as I kissed him, losing all sense of reality. It felt as if time had stopped just for me in this moment to enjoy.
Until he pulled me away from him and reminded me that reality is not my personal fantasy, and that they should be kept separate.
"What are you doing...?" I feel the same happy and tingly energy I felt a second ago leave my body, left for me take in Enji's shell shocked expression.
I quickly yank my body away from his hands, collecting myself. "I—I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."
I meet Enji's eyes for a moment, seeing them widen in realization. "Wait. Y/n, d—do you have feelings for me?"
"I thought you felt the same," I mumble, trying to hide the embarrassment in my voice. "I'm obviously crazy for thinking that."
I somehow find this situation funny, but I stop when I see Enji's face is stone cold. "Wait wait wait. You have feelings for me?"
I feel a pit of bitterness form inside my chest. What is he trying to get at? Is he just going to repeat the same thing over and over, reminding me that he doesn't feel the same? I don't say anything, I just look down.
"Y/n—look at me, please," Enji says, his tone almost pleading. I curse myself when I feel my eyes swell with tears, ready for one wrong word to let it all spill out. "How long have you had these feelings?"
"These feelings? You say it as if they're a bad thing," I say, letting the tears fall down my cheeks.
Enji tries to reach for my hand—to which I want to happen—and I guess he senses that, because he retracts his hands and instead intertwines his own.
"Y/n, I want you to understand that I'm too old for you," I try to search his eyes in hopes for the same soft look I saw a second ago, but all I get in turn are hard eyes that won't tell me what he's thinking. "I'm almost twice your age—"
"I don't care about that. Why does it matter?" I feel anger mix into the pit forming in my chest, not really understanding why. It's not like he's entitled to be with me.
"I don't have the same feelings for you, Y/n," I should be shattered at the words, heartbroken, even. But I'm not. Instead, I'm desperately trying to search for a weak spot in his hard expression that denies his statement. But I still can't.
"Was it because of that night—dinner?" My eyes widen.
How did he know? Was it just a guess? Was I obvious that night in showing my feelings? Or did he really feel something from that night? Or are am I slowly turning delusional? Maybe a bit of everything.
I bite my lip and turn the other way, not wanting to admit it. We sit there in silence for what felt like an eternity, until he breaks it with a sigh.
"Look, Y/n, we just...can't, okay? This won't work out."
I shoot my head in his direction, my mind replaying the words over and over. This won't work out this won't work out this won't work out thiswontworkout.
"How do you know that? You won't even try—"
"Because I don't see you that way," Enji interjects, his flames starting to hiss.
"Then how do you see me?" I demanded more than asked him, but nonetheless, I expected an answer.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Y/n," Enji warns, his voice raised.
I felt enraged. Who does he think he is? I was being rejected; he could at least tell me what the reason was behind it besides the age gap. I must've shown it on my face because he just huffed with the same amount of annoyance as I felt.
Then, out of the blue, I felt impatient and wanted answers. "What's the reason? Is age gap all that's really stopping you? Do you care about the public that much? Am I just a person you can use for your own enter—"
"Yes."
Oh, wow. Okay. That was a slap to the face I wasn't prepared for. I sat there, dumbfounded. Why can't I open my mouth? Say something, you idiot. Don't just sit there.
"W—what?" Great. Now I'm on the verge of crying.
"Just because we have some things in common doesn't mean we're meant to grow old and grey together."
"So those times you comforted me—those were all just white lies?" I search his eyes again, trying to see the Enji I saw at dinner—hell, ten minutes ago.
Enji scoffs, which surprisingly pissed me off at an absurd level. "You were just somebody to take pity on. Someone to feed lies to."
Did he just say that? I'm greeted by the same warm and salty tears flooding my vision, harshly swiping away at them. "You don't mean that."
"What do you know about me? What do you know what I mean and don't? We go out to dinner—which by the way, was out of pity for your crying—and you think you have me all figured out? Like you said, you have no right to judge me—let alone assume who I've become or if I've changed."
I can't move.
Did he just use my words against me? Is this how he really feels about me? After all these years of being by myself, I guess daydreaming got the best of me. How do I manage to get hurt so easily after everything I've been through?
It's a wonder, really.
"Why are you still sitting there? Are you expecting me to take back what I said? Say this was all a joke—to kiss you?" Every single one of Enji's words were venomous, mocking, his eyes daring me to say something. Killing every bit of our relationship—if we even had one.
I get off of the loveseat, fury reaching every single cell inside my body. "Fuck you, you asshole."
"Wouldn't be the first time someone's said that to me. Certainly not your first time calling me that."
God, he had no idea how badly I want to slap that smirk off of his face.
I snatch my bag off the chair and slam the door, storming my way towards the elevator and out the lobby, ignoring Daiki and Hiroko, so buried deep in my anger that they're almost inaudible. I storm toward my car and slam the door shut, then, out of nowhere, crying.
I was just filled with rage a second ago, why am I crying now?
"I finally had someone who I could connect with and my dumbass ruined it," I answered myself. I tend to do that when I'm upset. "Why do I always do that? Just for once—can something just go smoothly without me fucking shit up?"
It's no wonder why I have no friends. Well—I have Hizashi and...Aizawa. Ain't that a bitch? I made fun of Aizawa for having me as one of his friends, when I have him as one of my only friends.
After spending a good 20 minutes crying and bitching at myself, I finally started the car and drive out the parking lot, back to the house.
Why did I do that? Embarrassing myself. To my boss at that. I can't ever show my face again. I'll just have to quit.
But of course, I won't.
***
I finally get home and kick off my shoes, tossing my keys onto the hanging tray. I practically drag myself to the bathroom, embarrassment and anger taking up all my energy. You'd think if I spent 20 minutes in the car bitching at myself I'd be good for the night, but, like always, I'm wrong.
I turn on the bathroom lights, my eyes landing on the mirror. "Oh god. I look like those Hollywood actresses after a bad breakup," I laugh at the smeared mascara and blotchy foundation, getting a closer lookup in the mirror.
I start laughing at what I said: I look like a Hollywood actress after a bad break up. I didn't even get to the dating stage and I'm a crying mess.
I lazily wipe off the excess makeup and tear off my clothes, hopping into the steamy shower. I brush my teeth and half ass my skin routine, just wanting to bury myself in the blankets.
I plop onto my bed and take in the sweet scent of my bedroom, ready to fall asleep and forget everything. "Cheers to a better tomorrow."
Tomorrow can't be worse than what happened tonight. Right?