She can’t stomach the feeling, the raw wounds scattering across her skin that spell out regret and guilt– so she spits it out in the form of a lie. Gritted teeth transformed into a wayward smile, hands clasped in a makeshift prayer: metamorphosis from wolf to woman, girl untouched. She inhales smoke and exhales air. The poison’s tucked away deep in the marrow of her bones, burrowed in her veins, in the oranges behind her lids when she lets them fall shut.
I never meant to hurt you.
Imitation comes with a price, and she knows this but she can’t help but want something more than what he’s willing to give. There are warning signs. He’s got caution tape between his fingertips but we’re friends, aren’t we? tears it all apart. It’s three in the morning and he’s had a bit more than usual, and she’s starved herself for so long that for once she isn’t thinking about anyone else but her. The carpet burns her knees when she shuffles close, hands at his shoulder and his confusion’s nearly tangible. Haru, what’re you--
Your hair’s gotten longer, hasn’t it? Fingers become anchors, hook themselves deep until it’s him she’s breathing in. The warning bells are all the more jarring now. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.
She’s forgotten what it feels like to be needed.
Don’t. She leans in. Don’t. There’s a kiss at the corner of his mouth– she misses deliberately but lets it linger, a solitary mark, a plea. When she pulls away she laughs and it sounds just like it should, spills all over the newfound space between them. Now you don’t have to sing the rest of the song.
Tomorrow she’ll pretend she doesn’t remember.
( God says: there’s a special place in hell reserved for girls like you. )