This tale is about a boy and a girl. Not a love story, at least not what is expected of a love story. It's about two people who chose to kill their feelings a long time ago.

It all began two years ago. It had been four years since they met, yet people's lives always have a point of no return, always have the moment you make a decision that's going to change you. When you do, you're unaware of it. Everything looks normal; you don't feel your fate pressuring you. They were at a party, she was beautiful, they said, and he took your breath away; they danced together to a love song, getting the steps wrong but smiling; they didn't know that day would start torturing the memories of both of them.

Perhaps he was in love, or he was not, but when she found out, he stopped talking to her, because he feared her rejection. A week later, he was dating another girl.

Then, she fell. The girl who never loved anyone was in love. Months passed, and days followed one another, frenzied, each was different, each was unreasonable. Some nights, they gazed at each other and laughed, making jokes and weaving the thick weft of their twisted fate. Where did the thread lead to? They didn't know yet. Other nights, coldness would fall on their eyes, no gaze was exchanged, they were close but far away. Sometimes, rambling shouts and harsh insults would echo through rooms, causing everybody to wonder what they were arguing about, again. About nothingness, for they argued for the sake of mishandling each other, of offending so they could vent their frustration for a relationship being precarious between compliments and spits.

It all seemed to end. They rarely met, their group of friends almost broke up, she felt nothing more but blurry annoyance, he just didn't want to see her. Two years were passing, in two years nothing happened but they would constantly get closer and farther, the tension never got solved.

On one Saturday, they met, after two months that they hadn't. They smiled, tired. They made a decision. They had changed, so told the boy's eye sockets, his new earring; so was fixed in her shameless lipstick and her smile, way eviler. Now it wasn't just some possible feeling, it was just wanting to work a crazy thing out. Now it was just sarcastic jokes and eyes eating each other. Now they were tired of having hearts, nothing left beat behind the smiles they exchanged. They said "bye bye" and a silent promise: 'next time'...

Next time they kissed. He asked for more, she said no. That was a small revenge, a claim of power. Then, she was not some whore he was sleeping with; they both knew, but some confirmation was needed. They were so different from when they first met, they had changed so much, and they started falling right at that party, two years ago. That day was a turning point, and if you were to ask them, they would say they turned to Hell. Neither of them, if they could rewind time, would have danced; no, it wasn't worth it. Yet nobody can rewind time and fix their mistakes, so there they were, waiting for the unavoidable. It was a kiss they had waited for for so long they asked for it aloud, alone, in the car, shameless.

'You know what's gonna happen if we go. I longed for you on Saturday.'

'I know. Let's go.'

Though their minds were cold, their hands were burning. A touch they had coveted for two whole years could not be sweet, could not be slow. It was slight bites and her head on his shoulder, wondering why so much time had passed. It was a desire to feel one another, clashing with the cold mind, which knew when it was time to stop. It was hurry, because there was no time, there had never been and that night was no exception; those minutes were stolen from the relentless clock that had no pity and didn't stop for a single second.

Then they said good night, the car's door closed, a secret was locked shut there forever. There was no message, neither of them wanted to hear one another. That was just the solution to a problem, something that never happened. If anyone were wondering whether that night, after all that time, there was eventually a slight feeling, I must let you down. Told you this was not a love story.