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Ara dug her sharp, pink nails into the bed of her porcelain skin. There was no point in lying to Nura anymore. What was once a white lie to get her farther in the game turned real. She knew it was real the moment she felt Nura’s hands enveloping hers. It was such a secure moment: warmth in the presence despite the frigid atmosphere.
But that was then, and this was now.
With her face covered in runny makeup and tears, Nura groveled in sadness. She sat with her knees up against her chest, sobbing into her caps. She was ready for anything. Sure, even guilt. But now… now,
she was never going to get used to the aching emptiness she felt within her body. Ara tore her battered heart out from her chest with her bare, malicious hands and frolicked in the rhythmic beats.
“Please,” Ara begged, crossing her arms in unconcealed discomfort. She wasn’t uncomfortable because Nura was crying; she was uncomfortable because she knew she herself had diluted Nura to this. Seeing her in such a state was a sight she’d never forget. Her wretched noises tormented the drums of her ears. She stood above the sobbing woman, her mind racing.
“I’m sorry,” was all that fell from her lips.
Nura choked and stuttered on her own wails as she wiped her nose. “You’re not— you’re not sorry.”
The truth was, she was terribly sorry. She had never been so apologetic before.
“Nura… I promise. Everything. Everything leading up to this very moment has been real. M—maybe at first it wasn’t— but— you don’t understand—“
Nura bundled her fist in utter anger. At first, it was the stinging tears of disbelief. Now, Nura had grown undoubtedly upset just listening to Ara’s terrible, weak miscounts. She stood up from where she was originally planted and raised her voice, walking up to a now intimidated Ara.
“I don’t understand? You don’t understand!” Nura pressed her finger against Ara’s chest. “I— I opened up to you. My most vulnerable areas of myself were exposed to you. And what did you do?”
Ara stayed completely silent. Was that a rhetorical question?
“What did you do?” Nura beseeched once again.
Ara wasn’t exactly sure of how to respond to that question. She had lied to Nura for the betterment of her chances in the game, but Nura already knew that. Why would she repeat what she already knew?
Ara took Nura’s hand in an attempt to comfort her, but Nura swiped it away in disdain. “Get the fuck off of me!”
Ara’s lips began to quiver in somber. Was it really over between them? Had she really fumbled this bad?
Ara whimpered, “N—no! Nura, please! I—“
“You’re pathetic,” Nura grumbled. “I can’t believe I ever trusted you— liked you.”
It was like a knife plunged through her heart. She had destroyed their relationship. She had destroyed Nura.
Ara really was pathetic, wasn’t she? She was a pretty, valuable shell; but she had no redeemable interior. She was an awful person. She didn’t even know who she truly was: no talents, no hobbies she could indulge in, no close friends.
Just… superficial.
She felt an often familiar sensation in her eyes, as hot tears began to weld. She was on the verge of tears, right in front of the girl who she broke first.
“Nura…” Ara croaked, her voice shaky and stuttering with pity.
Nura ignored her pleads, looking down at the ground with furrowed eyebrows.
Nura scorned. “I hope you get everything that’s coming to you.”
She walked away, kicking the dirt under her Doc Marten boots, leaving Ara in her dust.
She watched Nura’s figure disappear as she walked farther into the nightfall. Her eyes were convulsive, her breathing was erratic.
But her physiological state wasn’t what frightened her the most.
It was the reality that Nura, the girl she truly began to believe was closer than just a friend, now loathed her with all her being.
And there was nobody to blame but herself.
Her piteous fucking self.