Destined

08

Haru

17 years old

2 years earlier, In Los Angeles, California.

I think we are in love. This has been going on for almost a month but lately we havenʻt been able to get away. With John and Eliza staying with us it's been hard to keep us a secret. I think my sister is getting suspicious of me.

But that doesnʻt matter cause it's me and him in my bed and every time we are here it feels as though nothing can touch us. He makes me feel special like, when Iʻm with him I donʻt need to worry. Heʻs brushing my hair with his hands, looking at me in a way that I admire.

Weʻre smiling at each other. Yaz guyʻs are out on the beach and it is just us alone in the house. Weʻre both in our underwear and suddenly weʻre kissing again.

The sound of the knob on the door turning is what stops us, our eyes widening. The next few minutes are going by in a flurry. There is shouting coming from his father, who looks shocked and then furious. Isamu is yelling at his father.

"Look, sir. Iʻm sorry." I try to say, real fear in my voice. And then there is a gun in his hand aimed at me and shit I didnʻt know he was this homophobic. Isamuʻs eyes widen and heʻs scared, he holds his hand up at his dad, trying to get in front of me.

"Dad, come on. You know this will be bad. What about his father or the Genoveseʻs mafia? There will be no alliance, if you kill him." He speaks calmly and logically but his father seems blind in a rage.

These moments are so blurry because that's when he shoots me in the stomach and suddenly Isamu isnʻt next to me, heʻs tackled his father to the floor. They were wrestling for the gun. I touch the blood to my stomach. Shit, Iʻm bleeding out.

Another shot goes off and Isamu is under his fathers body. I struggle to get to them and just end up on the floor a few feet next to them. Isamu Pushes his fathers dead body off of him and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Heʻs suddenly holding me in his arms and he has tears falling from his eyes. I reach up, wiping them from his face, "shit, I might just die." I say, croaking a laugh.

He holds me tighter to him, "fuck, Iʻm sorry. This is my fault. Iʻll fix it." He goes to lift me in a panic and I stop him with a hand held to his cheek.

"Itʻs not your fault." Iʻm sweating and the gun wound hurts. Iʻm bleeding all over my white carpet. All over Isamu, "I love-" I break off with a pant because the pain is a bit unbearable. Believe it or not Iʻve never been shot before.

I must have closed my eyes because Isamu grabs my face with both his hands and my eyes blink open, "donʻt give up," Heʻs crying so much, "You said you wouldnʻt."

"I know," I pant, "iʻm sorry." With sadness in my eyes. I bring my face up to him and we kiss one last time. A goodbye.

I try to think about what we must look like right now. With no shirts and blood on our hands and our bodies. I think about how selfish we were for thinking this would work.

He whispers my name over and over.

And still we kiss because weʻll never do it again. Because weʻre selfish till my last breath.