Heart strings

Starstruck after a funeral:

P.O.V--Quintana

As I stood infront of the mirror, I watched my reflection closely. The girl that stood before me was nothing but a stranger to me. Not just because she looked nothing like me,but because I didn't feel like myself either.

I knew for a fact now, I didn't like her, my reflection, the monster I saw. Her hair was a new shade of brown, short cropped hair till just under her chin. Her skin was a light tone of chocolate, with plump pink lips. Her clothes were all designer brand, and nothing out of style.

She resembled my worst nightmare, and I didn't want to look at her any longer.

Turning my back from the mirror, I closed it with an old robe of my grandfathers, a present he had given me, not himself, but in his will.

After Grandaddy past off, the family's been a mess.

Grandmamma had to move to an old home, since she didn't have money and the house was placed under my name. My mother's sister and her brother-in-law, along with their two childern, my cousins, moved away five years ago already. My mother's brother and his two childern, moved across the country to PE, they didn't even want to come to the funeral.

Which is where I am now, the funeral that is. I stood here amongst the few people that still cared, about me and Granddaddy. There stood the priest, my twin brother, Wren, my bestiest friend, Claire, my closer than close friend, Ishmael, my stepmother, Lyra and step sister, Jezabell.

*Why does my life have to be this way?*

,,,

I stood here again, in front of the mirror, maybe it was my fault, my Granddaddy dying and all. I wouldn't say I was the one who physically killed him, but I drove him to that point.

"I told you to stop standing by that mirror." says Ishmael, I didn't turn to see him, but I could hear him taking off his jacket, shoes and shirt. From the back, he hugged me, kissing the nape of my neck.

Sighing, he kept his face buried his nose, in the area in which he had just been kissing. "It's not your fault, Quincy, I blame myself sometimes for it, no, all the time." I could feel my neck getting damp and turned to face Ishmael. He was crying. My friend of two years, the boy who never shed a tear when he lost his niece, Delancy, in a fire that happened out of no where. The boy who didn't cry when he's high school sweetheart parents divorced and his mother went away with his only brother, crying infront of me, vulnerable and all.

"It's not your fault, Mael." Moving closer towards him, I closed the gap separating us. "I love you, even if it was your fault, I still would." Giving a small smile, I kissed his tears away.

Even though we were friends, I've  been told throughout my time of being friends with Ishmael, that we were destined to be more than just friends, but we decided to just stay friends. True, we had tried and tried again, but our relationship would never work in all situations.

Sliding my hands across his chest, it had scars, marks and ingravings, like tattoos. He had one on his hand, which was his niece's name, in Arabic. There was one on his shoulder, was a significant one, which he had gotten with his brother, before they left, which was so sweet, but Mael doesn't like it when I say so. Then the last one, was digits: '10570219.' I had that one too, we had it in the same part of our body, on the top of my left breast, just above there, just bellow the collarbone.

"I sometimes regret it... whenever I look at you, I imagine your beautiful self shedding tears for someone like me.", "At least you learnt something." Nodding slightly he lifted his arm away from his eyes, which had been covering them. "That I shouldn't mess with a Culton daughter.", "Wow, not what I meant, Mael." Chuckling I looked at him. "You are so confusing, you know that?" Nodding he smiles. Oh my Lord, that smile, I'd faint if I wasn't laying down.

"Just do it, Quincy." Biting my lip, I watched him, closing the gap between the two of us, "Promise me, Ishmael." Staring at me with wide eyes, his movements stopped, maybe he was caught off guard, or maybe, because he knew what response I wanted. I said the same thing to him, a couple years back, when Granddaddy was nothing, but healthy, when his parents were still together, when my parents were going through some stuff already, and everything was fine.

"Quintana." He sighs out, "I told you already that, I love you, and I promise with all that I have now, and in the future, my feelings will never change. Even if I got a better offer in a female, my feelings for them would never amount to what I felt for you back when I made this same promise to you, now, and when I say it again in our future."

Starstruck I gapped at him, like a fish would. He's never said it like that, just a plain, 'I promise I won't hurt you, Quincy.' No full name, no speech, no comparison, just the promise and my nickname.

"Starstruck, love?" Nodding we both gave a toothy grin to each other. "That's all I needed to here, Mael." Closing the gap between us, I smashed his lips into my own, true he was taken back a little, but recoiled himself quite fast responding, since he was soon kissing me back.

"I love you, Quintana Culton." says Mael, between the kisses, "I love you, Ishmael Jordaan."

*In ways you don't even know yet.*