His and Hers

His Perspective...</i>

I'm afraid of her.

She comes around when I least expect it, slipping through the darkness like a spy, utterly soundless. Once she makes her way into the light, you can see her long red tresses flowing behind her, and fear wells up in my throat at that first glimpse of her. She subtly turns around, her watchful, doll-like eyes scanning the room. She's searching for me. I feel stalked. This isn't the first time, and I know it won't be the last.

What the hell does she want from me? I can't give her the love she desperately craves, I'm not capable of it. I never have been. My tainted heart shriveled up and died long ago. I don't even remember what it feels like to love. I tried so hard to forget. I can't talk to her...it would only lead her on, give her false hope for a relationship that will never be. Anyway, she's always so quiet. In person, she doesn't bother me much, doesn't say much, and when she does, I never have a good answer for her. She seems to erase every ounce of my wit, my sanity. She's silent most of the time, and still, her gaze is so powerful that I feel smothered by her. Her eyes swallow me whole. Her presence alone makes my entire body ache in the most terrible way. She may look like a rose, but she's nothing but a thorn in my side. I wish she'd just disappear. I don't need this, I've never needed this.

She's too nice to me, for no reason at all. I've never once been "nice" to her. I gave her a hug that one Christmas, and then I walked away, fully regretting it. She's so young, she has so much to learn. How could she ever consider that'd I'd actually give her a chance? There's no way. It's not that she's not beautiful in her own way...statuesque and captivating, pale-skinned, with a sweet, innocent disposition. She deserves much better than what I could give her...I can't give her anything, not even the time of day. I'm not that kind of person. I admit it, I thrive on hate. I loathe just about everything and everyone, and then this girl comes along, and she stands out from every other juvenile teenage girl that's ever had a crush on me, and a small part of me, a very miniscule fragment, sometimes believes that she might really love me...

I don't believe in love. I don't believe in friendship. I only want my solitude, some peace.

Pretty girl, leave me be.



Her Perspective...</i>

Oh, I really shouldn't have come here. I should just turn around and walk out, he'll never know I was ever here. I promised myself that I'd give him space, that'd I'd leave him alone. I resent myself for being so obvious, for not having the self-control I thought I was capable of. Damn it. I don't know why I continue to do this to myself, this is a hopeless case. A one-sided attraction, what a joke. Why am I trying? Oh, shit...there he is, his jet black hair casting shadows on my soul and his ghostly skin illuminating in the small glares of light. Act natural. Act like you don't notice, even though your heart is pounding faster than the flight of a dozen hummingbirds.

He must think I'm so immature, coming around like this, but I'm not like those other girls. I'm not superficial, this isn't about looks...even though his beautiful blue eyes are deadly, their poison coursing through my veins with every tiny glance he allows himself to give me. He assumes I don't know him, but I know more than I should, and I'm in love with every single detail about him, even his flaws. I wonder how much strength it takes for him to walk right past me fifty times in one night, as if I didn't exist, even though I know he knows I'm there. What did I ever do that was so wrong? I tried to be nice, while being mysterious, and I was hoping to keep my feelings a secret...I didn't mean for it to turn out so lousy, so ugly, so misunderstood. He thinks I'm a stalker, some silly little fangirl, and it's not like that. I don't follow him around like a lost puppy. All I did was attempt to let him know that someone truly cares about him, with no strings attatched...and he didn't see it the way I'd hoped.

No matter how much he shuns me, I still can't help but think that there's a part of himself that he keeps hidden from the world--a part that's kind, that wants to be loved, but fears the consequences. He has such a hard exterior, but I can read people, and I see past his mask. This entire time, I was waiting for a breaking point--a breaking point where I might find that last piece of evidence and solve his jigsaw puzzle of a heart, a breaking point where he might realize that I HAVE figured him out, that I'm not like all the rest, that I actually care, that I want nothing from him but acknowledgement and understanding...but it'll never happen. He's consumed by his own cruel, black world that he's built for himself and he's too stubborn to let any light in.

I'm the light, the sunshine, and he is the vampire...

This will never work.