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“Sorry. It’s over.”
Quick and painless, to him at least. This is not the first time he has done this, and he’s uncertain if this’ll be the last. He usually waits for a second to see the realization seeping in before leaving abruptly. It’s not like he enjoys the sudden heartache scribbled all over their faceless faces, no, it’s so he could seem less crueler to them and himself for doing so.
The girl he was seeing — who was either called Jane or Jenna, was relatively normal with her comfortable way of living, a short break from his father’s incessant nagging of finding a well-respected woman from another rich family to settle down with. 18 years of age, a year younger than him yet somehow duller than watching paint dry. Funny because she was fine on their first date, her brother was just finer.
She ends up being his 25th ex while her brother was his 20th.
Perhaps talking to your older brother about how his relationship ended helps to negate the feeling of loss.
Rufus has not come to a conclusion on why it would be a good idea to let your baby sister go on a date with your ex-boyfriend.
A week has passed and a text notification catches his attention.
Hey, so Aerith kinda forced me to throw a party at my house since dad’s on a business trip, and I’m wondering if you’d like to come. There’ll be lots of my friends but I’m pretty sure you’ll have a bit of fun at the least :) 7 pm tonight, be there.
Oh she, she, she, she.
She came into his life a day after he broke it off with Jane (or Jenna) and that was the first time he felt positive emotions towards the old man’s business partners.
Tiffany, or preferably, Tifa. Fitting, a beautiful name for a beautiful person.
He’s not close to her by any means, but he knows the basics. Parents are divorced, moved to Sector 7’s Stargazer Heights complex when starting high school, a cat person, and someone’s girlfriend.
His entire being almost collapsed when she mentions her boyfriend’s name for the first time.
And he has met Strife before, 2 days ago. Rigid and packed with a ton of insecurities, but considering that Tifa talks about him like he’s big fun, Rufus figures that he was just nervous to meet him so suddenly.
The party.
Set in her father’s large garden, he found himself in.
She wasn’t lying when she said there will be a lot of people here. Unfamiliar faces crowd the place, a red cup in some of their hands, yet none can extinguish her burning presence.
“You came.”
“It’s hard not to when you’re the one who asked me.”
Sickening the way that she laughs, hand over her mouth — polite.
“Your boyfriend’s not coming?”
“He said he will but he’s late most times. I’m not too worried about it.”
Rufus doubts it. He writes down being not able to lie as one of her characteristics.
He reaches out his hand, palm facing up.
“Want to dance?”
Tifa hesitates initially, scared of the rumors that’ll come up if any of the school gossips see them dancing together. Yet she oh-so wants to. Nothing will happen between them and that’s for sure.
So she takes his hand in hers, dragging him near the center of the garden.
“Happy now?” It had been a teasing question, one he didn’t expect from her.
The grip he has on her waist tightens just slightly enough that it doesn’t tread the fine line between them. A hearty chuckle almost engulfed by the slow song that was put on.
“Content.” He exhales while swaying along to the rhythm.
It won’t mean anything.