He thought he was too cool for you. He actually believed that he was too amazing to be hanging around with the likes of you. Those were the exact words that left his cherry red lips.
Damn you, Strider.
So with a sniff and a loud huff, you ended your confession with a rather awkward stalk to the door, trying to slam it as loud as possible for added effect.
And you slowly walked away, waiting.
You waited for him to throw open the door with a flurry in an attempt to catch you before you were gone; not only from his peripheral vision but also his life. You waited for him to admit that he loved you and that this cool kid act was just a facade-something he put on for show. You waited for him to fling his arms around you and beg you to never walk out of his life again. You patiently waited for him to seal the deal with a passionate kiss.
You wanted him to love you. You wanted to be the girl that was always on his mind. You wanted to feel the heat from those god-like lips of his whilst the cool plastic of his shades were gently pressed against your face.
Your strides were getting shorter and shorter as worry struck you. Why hasn't he come to pull you into his arms yet?
You desperately wanted to pretend your life was some cliche romcom, in which everything was perfectly plotted and heart-wrenchingly sappy. In which the girl always got the guy no matter the menial differences between them.
But your life isn't like that.
So as you looked at the his door, praying that it would open, your feet crunched against the stale concrete of the street.
...and like a deer in headlights, you were caught.
Bye, Bye Dave Strider.
And from that window, Dave watched you walk too dangerously close to the street and proceeded to pull the door off the hinges in an attempt to save you. But alas, he was too late. He remembered see your face being illuminated by the bright light of a car, before everything was tinted red.
Oh, how he hated the color red.