Loving Her | #2

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How does the moon look tonight,

From the other side of town?

God I wish i knew.

To say Vincent was torn would be an utter understatement.

His heart was solely invested in the red headed girl with green eyes. There was no doubt at all about it. His muse was a siren who didn't even know she was singing.

But his heart was also another's - an imaginary lover's.

He felt as if what he had done for Andy had been his worst move towards her yet. It was the worst idea he had ever had, he believed.

Worse than leaving home, or taking twelve shots in 5 minutes.

The idiot was drunk on her love. Love she didn't know she was giving to him.

Is it bold, is it bright?

Is it hanging in the sky?

Looking down on you.

He loved when her lips would falter from her solemn expression. When they turned as she read his latest work, he almost fainted at the sight of her pink brushed cheeks. The blush she wore when her eyes scanned the page, taking in his words.

She wasn't just reading them, and he knew that. She really understood each word. She made sure she understood each word.

But it felt so lonely, seeing her from afar loving each word he penned, even when those words didn't just depict happiness.

Sometimes, without even trying, he would tell her how much he hated her - hated how he felt for her, to be correct.

She didn't know what it all meant, of course. How could she? It was up to her own interpretation, as all art was to each individual.

Oh I wish i was the moon,

So I might be with you.

One last time.

His lying was killing him. Rotting him from the inside out as if he had been poisoned by the emotions blooming from his chest.

Vincent was suffocating on his own words, on the flowers Andy didn't know she continued to plant in his lungs at each beautiful smile, each gentle cry.

It felt so stupid to lie about it, too. To just say his own words were stupid to watch her defend the characterisations. He loved how much she began to love him.

Not him. Someone else.

Some imaginary lover holding an ink pen and white paper as they watched Andy brush her hair behind her ear as she was teased for her heart's desire for this lover's face.

I wish i can disappear,

Cause I know I can stay here.

With or without you.

Vincent never tried to be in love.

He had never known it within his immediate family. His mother and father knew nothing but fighting with one another.

Cheating, money, children - everything under the sun.

They didn't love anyone or anything. Not the drugs or alcohol they abused, not their own kin.

The only time he felt wanted as a child was when he was with his Nanny, who truly loved him though she didn't have to. She taught him to love, and to be loved.

She was the only person who taught him anything, really. Until he met the enigma that was Parker as a child at a gala they both had to attend.

He never learned a thing from his father, and never felt a warm touch from his mother.

He was an accessory to a party. A business deal.

And he hated never feeling loved.

How do the stars look tonight?

Are they like tigers in your eyes?

They reminded me of you.

Andy felt similar in some ways. Her family had been torn from love to money - as the economy begged for.

Her mother was obsessed with her plastic card, and everything she could get from it.

So much so, she ripped her family away from itself at the birth of Andy's younger brother. She was one of six children. The eldest was a boy, followed by one girl and boy - twins -, another older brother, Andy, then their baby brother.

Her mother found someone with money, and told him she was to leave her family for their new love. But the man wanted children, a boy and a girl, so she chose her favourites. The baby boy and Andy's only sister.

Needless to say, Andy's father was livid. The anger he procured solidified her mother's claims that the two children she took were in danger in his hands. He wasn't a danger, though, all he ever did was try and help his family. But that didn't matter to Andy's witch of a mother.

He became a single father of four, and Andy lost three she loved - no chance of seeing them ever again.

Andy had watched the horror of loving first hand, and she didn't ever want to see it again.

Until the notes.

And every shooting star kiss,

Dremt up each second class wish.

Dressed up as something more than a dream.

Vincent wished he didn't dare reach her doorstep. He feared how his heart would soar in her presence, and plummet as he knew he couldn't hold her like he wanted.

But he did, and he always would.

He smiled as she opened the door to him, seconds before he even knocked.

Andy was waiting for him, of course, by the window. She was never one to leave someone by her step on stand by.

His breath was gone from the moment her cherry painted lips were sparked into a smile.

"Hey" Andy spoke first.

After clearing his throat, Vincent followed promptly "Hey" her crystal eyes glistened as he held up the bag he had in his hand "I brought KitKat's, Cheez-itz and Pop-rocks. They'll be fuckin' disgusting if you eat all of them at the same time but that's why we shouldn't do that. Or, in the same sense, exactly why we should."

"Watch me throw up, I'm gonna hate it" the girl laughed, taking Vincent's free hand and dragging him out to the back yard.

There were hello's from the two boys of three in Andy's house, and a strained reply from Vincent back. The loudest was Andy telling them both to 'fuck off and stay off'.

Vincent chuckled at this as she stared at the sky, her possessive behaviour over her friends and things.

She didn't want anyone or anything else to be stolen from her.

Especially not the boy she never thought would notice her - the hottest commodity available in their school (not that Vincent cared about his popularity) and the gentlest man she had ever met.

Foolishly, she didn't know that all he wanted was her as they walked to her set up.

Already laid out in front of them were blankets and pillows, ready for them to stargaze and talk shit for hours with a shared bottle of Hennessey.

Oh I wish i was the moon.

And it was hours that they lay on the grass, fingers mere an inch from another.

Talking of everything and nothing in sweet solace, forgetting that their graduation was around the corner.

Forgetting they could lose each other after the masquerade.

So I could just see you.

Andy unfolded the paper she stored in her pocket, beginning to read out Vincent's most recent poem to her "'You looked at the stars with such wonder, but I think you should know I only looked at you.

You were my stars.

You were my wonder'"


Vincent didn't want to say anything. But Andy did.

"How the hell do they think of these? It's so simple, and so beautiful. How do you capture emotion like that?"

Vincent stared at the girl, her eyes closed, hiding the reflection of the constellations above them.

He resisted the urge to reach for her hand, the one holding words, his heart, so delicately, her palm brushing his emotions like a pianist's fingers brush over ivory.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head from the thoughts of her.

"I don't know"

I wish i was the moon.


i wish i was the moon - ewan j phillips

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