Boys Over Flowers Fan Fiction ❯ Believing In Fate ❯ Picture of You ( Chapter 1 )

Written in response to the week 28 challenge - A picture is worth 1000 words. Have a character reflect on a picture of someone.

 

DISC: I do not own Hana Yori Dango (Boys Over Flowers) or its characters, which are the creation and property of Yoko Kamio. I receive no profits from the writing of fanfiction using her characters. Please don't sue. All I have is debt anyway.

 

 

 

Picture Of You - Believing In Fate

 

He's the luckiest son of a bitch that's ever been born.

 

He was born the heir of one of the wealthiest families in Japan - in the world. He's got looks that would make women throw themselves at his feet even if he wasn't rich. Even with his crazy-ass hair. He's gotten almost everything he's ever wanted his whole life.

 

Oh, sure. He was lonely a lot growing up. All four of us were. Good-looking rich kids are set apart. Doesn't seem like it's that way to everyone else, but we all knew it and dealt with it in our own way.

 

But that idiot. He's the luckiest son of a bitch that ever lived.

 

That was my wedding toast. "To the luckiest son of a bitch who ever lived, and the strongest girl I've ever met. May you be strong enough to put up with him, and may he be lucky enough to keep you happy."

 

It was my way of telling them both. It's... difficult, but I'll always support you.

 

He's my best friend. If she has to be with someone other than me, I want it to be him. And I love her so much that I want her to be with the one she loves.

 

I still keep her picture under my pillow. My family thinks I'm still pining for Shizuka. But it's HER picture that I keep under my pillow. The one from our boat ride in New York. I got to kiss her in New York. I got to pretend - in only for a few days - that maybe we could be together.

 

But I missed that chance. I was too dumb when the chance was there, and then it was too late.

 

When I look at that picture, see her smiling on the boat next to me, while I'm looking at her so longingly, I can remember how soft her hair is. She let me cut it for her. Complimented me on how good of a job I did. Every night, I hold the picture in my hand before I go to sleep, and I remember the feel of her hair. Such an innocent thing.

 

She's looking up at the sky with a sad expression - yeah, she's smiling, but you can tell she's sad all the same.

 

Because she's thinking of him. And me, I'm just looking at her. Even the photographer said to me that it was too bad her heart belonged to another.

 

I see her thinking about him, even while she's there with me, even after her heart had been broken she loved only him. And I think, 'Is it fate? Was it fated? Did I ever have the chance?'

 

This is a very important question. It's one that I spend the hours of every day thinking about.

 

Were those two fated to be together?

 

When I think about everything that happened, how they first hated each other, I wonder if they were fated? Was it fate? They went through so much. Endured so much to end up together. Was it destined?

 

I need to know the answer.

 

They're happily married now. She's expecting their first child. And I can only think of one thing: Were they meant to be?

 

Please, god. Give me a sign that it's so. Please tell me it was fate. I need to believe that. I need it more than anything.

 

Because if they were not fated to be together, it means that if I had just been smarter, come to my senses a little bit earlier, she'd be with ME now instead of him. I'd be with her and happy.

 

Instead of alone.

 

So alone.

 

I love them both. I'm happy that they're happy.

 

But every night before I lie down to sleep, I remember what she felt like in my arms. I remember the softness of her lips. I see those beautiful, honest eyes looking up at ME instead of the sky they're looking to in the picture. And I feel my heart break again.

 

If it's fate, then there's nothing I could ever have done.

 

If it's fate, then there's someone more perfect than her looking for me.

 

There's no one more perfect than her. Is there?

 

Is it fate?

 

Please god. Just let me believe in fate. Let me sleep believing.