No Cassie.
I disclaim. Still not my characters on the whole, though the spatula idea is mine alone.
Sugar is Sweet, My Love, but Not as Sweet as You
Part One
"Hey Shawn." Two simple words and my heart nearly bursts through my chest.
"Hi Belle," quick, think of something else to say. "Um, Belle, did you finish Mr Mason’s English assignment?"
She frowns at me, biting her lower lip in that cute way she’s done for as long as I can remember. "You know I did, Shawn, you helped me with it."
"I meant the short story," she twirls her hair in two fingers, and I’m suddenly glad she’s worn it down today. It means it’s easier for me to thread this rosebud through it when she’s not looking. Of course, she notices immediately, but what do I care? She’s smiling at me.
"Shawn," she purrs, and I keep thinking about kittens.
"Yes?" Then I’m kissing her, and I don’t care who’s watching. Actually, the only person who’s watching is JT, and he’s only three, so he doesn’t care. By Venus, I love this girl.
We don’t speak, there’s no need for words. We understand each other perfectly.
The doorbell rings, and, slowly drawing back from my Isabella, I run to get it, eager to get rid of whoever it is so I can return to her. I have a very special box of chocolates to show my love.
Something dark comes out of the sunlit porch, and then I’m on the ground, gas filling my lungs, and I can’t see a thing…
I wake up, and the sun’s just about to go down. The box of chocolates I bought for Belle, the one with the Claddagh promise ring right in the middle, is still sitting on the table, but of Belle there is no sign. JT’s still sitting in his playpen, but he’s screaming, tears flooding down his cheeks, and then I see the spatula on the floor. I don’t know why that made me think something really bad had happened, but it did.
Suddenly I want to see Belle, and I don’t care if she calls me ‘sweet’ or ‘sugarplum’ or even ‘candy guy’, because right now, I’ve never been more terrified in my entire life, and I don’t know why. Belle’s probably just calling the cops… but if that were true, she’d be bouncing JT on one hip, holding the phone against her ear as she soothed him and looking for something to use to wake me up, not being in another room.
I lift my head groggily, and get to my feet slowly. I walk slowly over to the spatula, barely noticing that JT has got hold of one of my biology textbooks and is slowly shredding it while he screams his head off, and there are two tiny conversation hearts laid carefully upon it. I think I’m going mad. They’re broken in two, the first is yellow and pink, it reads ‘Good’, and the second, blue and red I notice, says ‘Bye’, and it is at that precise moment I feel my heart slip out of my chest and dissolve.
That sounds so stupid. No one’s heart dissolves. It breaks, shatters, melts, beats rapidly, but it doesn’t dissolve, yet that’s what happened to me. My heart dissolved because for my entire life time I have been loved by the person I will always love most always, and now I know she’s gone. Perhaps it’s the famous Horton connection that tells me, but I know that this Valentine’s Day, I won’t be seeing my Belle again.
I’m nineteen years old, a college kid with prospects in law enforcement, and I’ve just lost the love of my life. Damn.