Itoshi Sae was a prideful man.

As a boy, however? He learnt the wonders of love. Memorising a partner’s likes and dislikes, gift giving, pampering, dates, and intimacy. That version of him had survived two more years with you, before going off to Spain to train more in football. And like the perfect person he thought you were, you waited another four years. He, however, didn’t waste time like he thought he did back then.

He scoffed, turning away from your attempt at kissing him on the cheek at the airport. His head turned away from you, the muscles more refined than what you had last remembered. Your persistence was infuriating — why did you try so hard to rekindle what was already put out years ago? He didn’t understand why you stayed, why you held onto this ‘relationship’ with a dying hope that might as well be let go already. A swift turn of his heel was enough to push him forward, back into the life he wanted to throw away. Damn his passport.

Attending events with you was no better. He didn’t want to further waste his time with meaningless events, he had football, didn’t he? He was a busy man with a practically worthless schedule, not to mention the burden of you consistently clinging onto him. At a party he begrudgingly went to, the flashing lights seemed far too much for him. This was a hotel; not a club, so why all the fuss? Was it because of his fame? What a load of bullshit. Sae huffed, managing to get away from all the noise in a secluded corner with close friends he could somewhat tolerate.

But you were still clinging to his side. What were you, his lapdog?

“You’re pathetic,” he sneered, trying to shake you off of his arm. “stop clinging to me like some fucking dog. I’m not interested.” You let go of his arm, eyes widening in disbelief. His own narrowed at what might’ve happened — did you just realise he didn’t need you anymore? Is that why there’s so much shock? Your reaction wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him anymore. He isn’t the same person he used to be. Sae wasn’t the boy you loved anymore.

“What, do you want me to tell my friends about how unruly you look when you wake up? The drool, the bedhead, even more clingy than you are now? Go away. I don’t need your support.” His friends looked uncomfortable, clearly noticing the disdain visible in his aquamarine eyes, while taking note of your tear lined lashes with suppressed pain for god knows how long. A nod of your head and a hand to your mouth was all Sae needed to see. He shooed you off with a dismissive gesture, leaning back against the wall with newfound tension. This felt wrong. You looked almost hurt. No — he chided himself, this was right. No more loose ends.

While you felt utterly sick to your stomach. You felt pathetic as you played right into his trap, ensnared in something you couldn’t possibly escape. He wasn’t your Sae. He was broken, and you had the foolish thought of trying to fix him once more.

The drive back to your apartment felt suffocating, the tension between the both of you palpable. You were more reserved, after that confrontation. And he finally cared enough to notice. You looked more tired, mature. Apparently, he couldn’t see just how much damage he inflicted on you. How pathetic you thought you were — how worthless you were in his once dream-filled eyes.

Flights of stairs passed by in a blink of an eye, your weary state barely processing your automatic movements. Utterly humiliated and embarrassed for something you were so proud of. Shot down in an instant. The emotions whirling inside you almost impulsively made you want to break down your own door. He placed a hand on your shoulder, firm, but not harsh enough to make you wince in pain. It was a refresher from this inner turmoil.

“I’ll take my stuff and go to my parent’s house,” he stated, eyes darting everywhere but you. “I’m not staying for you. I just need to renew my passport and finish my game, and then I won’t bother you.” His words made your heart ache with something he will never be able to reciprocate again. Love.