by Casheyane

Also called Always Perfect, Never Yours


She's a dreamer. He's a realist.

Perhaps if they meet, they would make the perfect collision.

If only...

Sitting on her bed with her head leaning on the window as she hums to a classic rendition of Pachelbel's Canon in D Major that's blasting in her headphones, her reflection shows the perfect example of a caffeine sustained sleep deprived girl in her panda printed shirt and cotton pink pyjamas decorated with hearts. On her lap was a fancy vintage notebook, secured by the hand that's not holding a mug of steaming milk, the opened page revealing an unfinished sketch of a female angel shining in the sun with her hand outstretched to a lone man sitting in a tree branch. The word "Redemption" was written at the bottom, right above her own signature and the date 6 Aug 2014.

One day, she dreams.

One day, everything will fall into place and all her dreams will come true. But until then, she would content herself by getting lost in the pleasure of her own imaginings. A fictional world where every character she desires would exist under her own ruling, and where all creatures, great and small, would come to know their purpose in life. And in that perfect world, she would be the goddess who would ensure their happy endings.

"Dinner's ready!" she heard her mother's voice and knocking from outside her door.

She puts her dreams on hold when she set aside her notebook, her little brother knocking her arm when he barged out from his own room just beside hers.

"Race you to the kitchen!" he announced.

It only took a second of pouting before she was running full speed, tackling her brother along the way.

The girl really looks radiant in her sunflower dress, her hair looking soft and untouched, even after being blown by harsh winds.

For a commercial model, she surprised him with her vast knowledge on proof theories and algebra as they chatted over coffee. In return, he talked about his favourite sport and the band he used to play for to get extra cash when his uncle wasn't asking him to work for him.

He watched her listen to him with unbidden interest, and it didn't hurt that she laughed at his jokes, no matter how lame some were.

If anyone were to ask him, he'd say it was weekend well spent.

And now, they reached this part of the date, both standing in front of her apartment door and for the other to make the next move.

How many times had he done this before?

How many times had he tried and tried only to arrive at the same darn conclusion?

Giving her a kind a smile and handing her the sunflower he picked from someone's yard, he says, "Thank you for spending this beautiful day with me."

Carefully and with practiced ease, he brought a hand to cup her cheek, smiling when it felt it light aflame with his touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips against her tinted cheek, pulling away slowly when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Ahm," she uttered, suddenly reverting back to her shy self and reminding him of why he agreed to ask her out. "Well, ahm, thank you. Thank you for the flowers. I had a great time."

He nodded then, agreeing with her sincerely.

There was no lies said when his friend told him she was a lovely girl before they were introduced to each other a week ago.

He couldn't help but think that if only he was another man, then he would be like the rest and ask, maybe even beg her for another date.

She was eying him expectantly, biting her lip as she fidgets and turns her body towards the door, but not close enough to open it.

It would take a truly innocent man to not understand what she's trying to express without words.

In fact, he did wonder how the day would end earlier back.

"Ahm…" she says, giggling and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

But before she can voice the request, his hand was already on the knob so he can open the door for her.

"Please. I'd like to see you safe inside before I go," he tells her, and pretended to ignore the disappointment that welled her eyes in his unwillingness to make a move.

With the door closing behind her, he let out a sigh on the other side, one of his hands coming to tug at his hair in silent frustration.

What kind of guy would waste an opportunity to sleep with a lovely girl? Is he even sane? He wonders. But the thought was gone as soon as quickly as it came, and then his ringing laughter filled the air.

Sometimes, his morals surprise even himself. If only he could ignore the voice the voice in his head saying there should be more to life than this.

A/N: I'm a sucker for reviews :)