It hurts.

It hurts to see him with her, happily without me by his side.

I swallow a salty tang, yet it still lingers on my tongue, stubbornly reminding me of my foolishness. I'm at war with my vocal chords that only wish to scream; my vision that threatens to blur with moisture.

Why do I only bring about regret in my actions?

His soulful eyes seem to be reaching for me, concern etched deep in their abysses.

"What's wrong?" 

I falter under his unrelenting gaze, his innocent, sincere question the final straw.

My lips quiver and on cue, he pulls me close. He wraps his arms around me, comforting me. I flinch at his familiar touch, all too aware of how it's merely platonic. It's something he has always done, it doesn't mean much to him anymore. Yet, it drives me insane.

His arms are secured tight around my sides and resting on my back. His even, steady breaths a stark contrast to mine. I can't tell if my gasping is due to the already forming tears or just because it's him. The irony nearly causes me to crumble.

He who never fails to be by me; who is never without a cheery grin; whose eyes bleed poetry and lips only spill the best intentions.

He's now almost never without his girlfriend in tow, and takes me for a sister — when I see him as so much more.

My head instinctively rests in the crook of his neck, and he holds me up as I feel my knees buckling. My lips are mere inches away from his earlobe, and centimeters away from his jawline, but I cling to what's left of my reasoning.

"You are what's wrong," I manage to squeeze out.

Confusion mars his chiseled features momentarily. I take the opportunity to escape, pushing him away and bolting for my room.

He stands still for a minute, unsure of what to do. I've never done that before — flat out, rejected him. Now that I have, the guilt shoots through me, engulfing every cell of my being.

Right before I can turn the corner to my room, my eye catches another familiar face. Her concerned face, as she looks towards me. She whom I wish to despise; who has a heart of gold and the brightest smile I have ever seen.

It hits me right in the face like a hard slap, serving as a reminder that running doesn't widen the gap between them, only between us. Even if I leave, he wouldn't feel the difference.

I truly wished to hate her, the girl who has him completely enamoured.

But how could I? 

She's my beloved sister, after all.