The Third Wheels

By; CompulsiveLiar

Shot Thrice- Save Me, Instead

I keep my eyes shut as I lean down to kiss your lips. They are warm, and I shudder as I cold ones crush them with a force inexplicable. You kiss me back just as deeply. This is how things are supposed to be, I know it.

Sunshine is just beginning to engulf the world, and its orange rays begin to gleam into the room. Your arms wrap around me, and I smile, taking my lips off of yours. Those eyes of mine don't dare open, but I can tell that you're smiling, too.

"You're beautiful," you tell me, and I can feel myself wilting; my head collapses on your chest, and you run your hand down my hair in that way that makes me feel so wanted. I've never felt so fulfilled in my life. It's almost like you complete me. Maybe you do, you're too perfect not to. I love you with my entire self, and then some. You know this, too; you've known this since we met, because you felt the same way.

I breathe in deeply, your warmness engulfing me. When I exhale, I can feel you tense; my breath is cold on your bare torso. "Gosh," you say, "you're freezing." And now you're holding me tighter.

This is making it hard for me to think clearly. "I'm sorry, I don't know why."

"Don't say sorry," you plead, "it feels nice."

My lips turn upward, and meet yours once more. You're perfect. I can't even believe how amazing you are, and I can't believe I have you for my own.

"Thank you," I tell you. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," you reply.

Before I open my eyes, I can feel my stomach knot up into difficult twists and turns that seem as if they'll never come undone. I bite my lip; can I trust you?

Of course I can trust you. I love you.

"Promise me something," I tell you. My voice feels strained, and I suddenly feel like I'm burning up rather than frozen, like my breath.

"Anything," you answer.

I take a deep breath. "Promise me you'll never leave me."

And I can feel you staring at me, watching me carefully with my unopen eyes so aware of exactly what you're doing. Silence is stagnant and the air is hot. Or maybe that's just the warmth radiating from your body. I can't even tell anymore. All that I know is I don't want to open my eyes.

"For you," you say, finally. "Anything."

I smile, and I open my eyes.

It's when I open my eyes that I realize I'm not with you at all. I'm standing outside of your bedroom window in the cold, feeling the small snowflakes graze my cheeks and leave small reminders that I'm all alone. Outside of your house, it's freezing. My breath forms clouds in the air as night is quickly becoming us, and I shudder from the chills that linger in the breeze and catch me by surprise every single time.

My eyes are wide open, and I see you; you, and your beautiful face that I've learned the curves of through all of those kisses that you always tell me you love. I can see that beautiful face through your frosted bedroom window, on the second story that felt so many thousands of feet off the ground. So far away from me, I can hardly stand how far from my arms you seem.

Maybe its because, instead of my body pressed up against your bedroom wall, it's her. Your lips are on hers, some girl I don't know. I've never met her; who is she? Can you tell me? Answer me, who is this girl?

Those lips are mine, don't you understand? How can you give them to another? My heart is as cold as the snow banks, filled with dirty, black snow on the sides of the road. My eyes hurt, but my gut hurts even worse. I feel like pretending I didn't see this. I feel like pretending I'm what you want, what you need; I feel like pretending that you aren't doing this to me.

Something that doesn't smell like snow rolls down my cheeks. This smell is salty, and I can't place it just yet. Now, I realize, it isn't melted snow, but rather a tear. Another one is following it, now. I don't want to cry, but I am anyway. It's getting darker.

My lips are quivering, but not because of the cold. I can't look away from you, you with your arms around her and not me. What am I to you? What are you doing? Do you even know what it is that you're doing? I don't think you realize that you're making me cry. Maybe if you were to know that you're making me sad, you wouldn't kiss her with so much passion. You'd kiss me instead.

How can I look at you the same way again? I can't. My arms are wrapping themselves around my shoulders. They're trying to hold me together, because I know that if I let go, I will fall down. And falling isn't something I like to do.

I wish you would hold me up instead of making me do it on my own. Can't you be down here with me, holding me up instead of leaving me to do it myself? You don't see me watching you from just outside. It's so hard being the third wheel sometimes.

Come on, I'm telling myself. Go on home. You aren't wanted here. Just go home and save yourself.

But it's so hard saving myself. I want you to save me, instead.