Castless.

I shiver under the flimsy cover of the bus stop. The black roof does nothing to prevent the rain that pours down on me. It's unstoppable, impossible to break out of its infinite tears.

My coat does nothing to prevent myself from the biting wind or the frost that lines the bus stop. The red of it seems appealing against my red lipstick - the reason why I wore it. It's now most likely to be smeared over my cheekbones.

The same goes for my thin skinny black jeans. They give the illusion of warmth but in reality, they hug my long legs with fabric that can't supply warmth that I need. Along side my arm lies a black umbrella, past its expiration date. The umbrella's waterproof material is ripped out by the horrid wind and lying idle on the floor.

All I need is a bus to arrive. After a terrible date that included an egotistical male, food that didn't come in the variety of vegetarian and a failed attempt of a kiss that left me slightly scarced, I'm incredibly tired.

Not that this day could possibly go worse. I start to watch a car passing by and stop breathing for a second - the pace of the car is too fast, any amateur could guess. The speed it's flying at could kill someone or kill the passengers and to top it off, it's raining. I bite my lip, nearly drawing blood.

The car is coming towards the tree - it's about to crash. I helplessly watch, stiff as a statue as the car crashes. It moves in slow motion, each second feeling like a blade. My mind screams at me to do something, to help them but my body refuses to move.
Finally, a scream arrises from my throat and I start to move - no run. I run as fast as I could, faster than the times I was forced to. My heart pounds in my ears, a constant clock for me. Is death coming for them?

The tree lies across the road, standing strong if the car never has happened. I bite on my lip and this time, I taste the copper taste of blood. The car is sliver, still shining despite the lack of rays.

I open the car door, surprising myself with the fact it opens so quickly. Suddenly, my throat feels dry. On top of the leather seat, a guy sits who has his legs covered in light blue jeans and a denim shirt. Underneath is a white top, staining with blood and hinting under the raindroplets.

I know him. I know more than I know more myself - I remember sitting on beaches with him, spending nights with the stars and conversations that could last forever. My lips seem to forget how to speak again, how to recount those memories I've burried.

"Rahul," I whisper, shrugging his body. His shoulders are warm to my touch, sending goosebumps to my arms as I feel his blood touch my hands. I don't realise I'm crying until I'm wiping a tear away. "Rahul," I say with more force, shrugging with all I have into attempting to wake him up again.

Suddenly, his brown eyes open and peer into mine. The familiarity of it strikes me, cutting whatever I have left of my heart into another shard. All of his features haunt me, reminding me of what could have been. His stubble that he never seems to shave off, the small dimples in his cheeks and his light pink lips.

"Aisha?" he mumbles, making my name sound like an achool drink he drunk too fast. His eyes are droopy and close once again, before I shrug him again. "What are you doing here?"

I move closer to him, sniffing his breath and I find myself grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Alcohol. I couldn't misplace the scent any longer, the smell of it all too familiar to me. When someone who you love so much loves this intoxicant more than you, the scent of it burns into your memory.

"Why?" I find myself saying, chocking back a sob. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

Rahul had everything going - he was perfect and everyone knew that. He had the perfect grades, he could play sports well and he had a charming smile. Yet something was missing and it was happiness. When he found that happiness in a bottle, he left someone who had all her hope pinned on him.

That's the thing about him, I loved him until I wasn't sure if I even knew myself. His existance was suffocating mine. The days I spent crying, waiting for his arrival that I knew won't ever come, the days I spent lying to myself that he'll change, the days I'll snap at anyone who spoke ill about you - they were breaking me.

I never fell out of love - I was loosing myself waiting for him to come back.

Today, he sits infront of me, holding all the questions I have and now my hand. He takes my hand, taking breathes slowly if it pains him. I don't move back, I keep mine in his despite the fact blood flows to my hand through his wrist. "I know, I promised I'll stop, that I'll call you when we can start our lives again," he says, stopping in between words to breathe slowly.

I watch his eyes carefully, noting the bloodshot eyes that lack sleep. A few tears slowly move onto his cheeks and I knew it was the end. That after this, they're would never be a kiss we'll share, a wedding we planned or the days we wake up laughing together.

"I lied - I knew that I'll never change. You deserve better, you deserve happiness," Rahul carries on, his words feeling like soft bullets. His tongue sounds so familiar, the deep voice of his that curves fluently around a the words.

I can still taste the day he left, the bitterness of it all. I want to go back to the past, I don't want this painful love, I want the love we had. "I still love you," I say the truth, muffling a sob within my heart.

"But you deserved better, you've always had," he replies, his eyes watching mine. He smiles, popping a dimple that I've always loved. This time, the smile seems fake and we both kmow it. Everything is over, his breathes are shortening and my tears are pouring along with the rain.

"I'll call 911, we'll make it through. We'll have everything we need - Rahul just hang in there," I lie, trying to convince myself more than Rahul. I bring out my phone, holding it as Rahul slowly smiles.

"I have a last wish. Promise me, despite everything you'll be happy again," Rahul mumbles, his eyes closing again. They flutter slightly as if he's fighting to stay awake and my hands fly to his arms, holding them.

They don't open again.

With that, my heart drops and I shrug his body again. The softness of it feels mocking and the chill it sends down confirms my fears.

There's no more second chances left. With that, I start sobbing my heart out, kneeling my knees to the puddles left by the rain. The rain clouds start to spread out and sunlight pours through despite the incident that just happened. With hands that shake, I dial 911.
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