New Colours

Fading away, when you're drunk and alone
Can't see my face in your heart anymore
Telling yourself you don't feel like before
And that's when I run
All of these thousand miles
To get you back
Coming for you babe, I'm coming now
That's when I run
All of these thousand miles
To get you back 

--Thousand Miles / Tove Lo

"All right, good night. I love you too."

The dark-haired girl whispered sweet words under her breath, tightly clutching the cell phone to her ear. Sweat beaded from her palms as the call ended; she could already feel the familiar pair of eyes boring into her back.

"It always amazes me," he murmured, "how great of a liar you can be."

She neatly slid her cell phone into the black clutch hanging on her shoulder and turned to face him. The moonlight cast shadows onto his face that almost made him unrecognizable, but she could never forget those eyes. That handsome face offset by a perpetually cold gaze.

"That makes both of us, doesn't it?"

He smirked. "I'm not sure I'm on your level."

"Oh, I know. You're much worse."

"You think so?" He trailed his fingers along her forearm. "You should be more honest with yourself."

She shivered, taking a step backwards. No matter how good she was at playing the game, he easily managed to unnerve her.

"Anyway, I'm here," she said stiffly. "Exactly like you wanted. Now what?"

"One of your friends has something of mine. I want it back."

"I guess I have no choice."

"Of course not." He smirked. "We're business partners."

"Is that everything?" A sigh escaped her lips. "If so, we should get on with this."

--

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I subject myself to the pain of remembering? I am a robot strapped into a harddrive of my past. 

Rain falling against the windowpane. A ghost I can still feel inside, my younger self. I breathe memories back into my being with music. Lying in bed for hours, staring out the window in a dark room. Childhood I can never reclaim.

Do you ever listen to sad songs, or nostalgic songs, and reflect upon a simpler time? The coldness of this world is something I can’t break away from. This selfishness. I can’t control it though. Rising and falling.

--