Autumn’s now winter.

Wrapping a black, knitted scarf around his neck, he buries his face there, and closes his eyes while leaning against the cold window of the train. The first day of winter is always colder for him, and so he brings his jet-black jacket closer to himself.

He’s on his way to forget her, or maybe not.

He hates how she walks into his life so carefreely, he hates how she walks out of him so heartlessly, and he hates how she – But nothing matters anymore now, because all he wants is for her to be out of his life forever. Yet she shamelessly leaves behind so many memories of him, of her, of them. Just too many that he’s suffocating, hurting and- 

Sly, he curses indignantly.

He doesn’t want them anymore. Sometimes, he wishes (though he doesn’t really mean it) that she has taken them away with her. After all, she took everything away from him, and that includes his heart.

It’s just painful how he used to believe in her, in them.

It’s just painful how she used to smile at him, so beautifully.

It’s just painful how her once-so-contagious laughter echoes in his mind, and he’s no longer laughing.

It’s just painful how the world he shares with her, is no longer theirs, and everything's just too cold, and dark now.

It’s just painful how he thinks they’ll last till the end.

It’s just painful how she tells him ‘it’s us against the world’; it’s nothing but a lie.

It’s just painful how she walks out of him, so unwaveringly.

It’s just painful how she never looks back at him.

It’s just painful how they almost reach the end, together.

It’s just painful how he gives her his heart, and never gets hers in return.

It’s just too painful to know that they were almost there, almost. As he’s about to tear the last photograph of them, he tells himself that it’s over. Everything’s finally over; it’s over between her and him, between them.

He just wants his heart back. Even though he knows it’s already worn-out and ripped apart, he wants it back from her. He thinks that she doesn’t have any rights to own his heart, even if it’s broken into pieces. She doesn’t deserve it at all.

He looks out of the window of the train. The winter sky above him is a palette of colours - a mixture of sky blue, pale lavender, bright yellow and orange, everything’s just breath-taking.

He doesn’t feel the hot liquid streaming down his face, and doesn’t realize he’s crying too, until he sees the fresh tear stains on the photograph that he has been gripping onto so dearly for the past fifteen minutes. His face is now flushed red, and his body is curved, trembling as if he’s about to break.

He remembers how she once told him that guys shouldn’t cry because they’d only look pathetic and even more fragile than girls when they cry. He scoffs at her words, and back then too. He angrily crumbles (and still not tearing) the photograph into a ball, and throws it into his backpack while pressing back those damned tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes again. 

He tries to convince himself over and over again that he’s tearing up simply because he can’t stand the cold winter, and not because of her. He tried. But his honest heart tells him otherwise. 

Winter’s just starting. But the snow’s already falling.

He regrets asking for his heart back. He doesn’t even want it now. He doesn’t even need it anymore.

Kai loses his heart in winter.