There's always a time where the sky itself paints the world with it's own color.
I looked at the sky, the color of orange and red mixed with yellow. The sound of the swing creaking, I looked at her, her head was tilted up, her eyes mirroring the view of the beautiful sky, but for me she's more beautiful.
"Vic..." I breathe, she looked at me stopping herself from swinging. Our eyes locked together, and it was the most peaceful thing. But my heart destroyed that, like how it can potentially destroy this world, this world where you exist to follow a path, where you're a puppet attached on multiple strings, the world isn't a world, it's a book, a story and I'm a character, my own agenda is to be the side character, a best friend, the one she chats with, the one she invites to go shopping at the mall, the one she talks about her crush with, and I wanted more than that.
But I can't, yet I...
"I like you" I finally said it, it was as if me and her owned a story, that this cruel world actually belongs to us. This moment belong to us.
"I'm not her." She suddenly said, her eyes looked exactly like the one I know, the Victoria I know.
"I know." I replied. Maybe because it wasn't her, maybe because deep inside I know that it's not her, maybe that's why I told her I like her. Yet part of me still wanted to say it, part of wanted to dive at the sea knowing that I will drown in the end, because maybe, just maybe I could reach the end, and it was more less painful than knowing that I won't ever reach the end.
It was more painful to think that, I won't be able to say that I like her ever again. That this book will end and I will wake up in another book and that exact time, I no longer have hope or courage to tell it to her.
"Yet you still told me."
"Exactly..."
