Start Fiction:
Tim walked away, not saying a word. Sara could hear his teeth grind; he was pissed. She knew she had hurt him, that he had the right to be angry, but the hotter his temper got the more attracted to him she became. Story of my life, she thought as Tim walked out the door, shutting it gently.
Sara remained still. She had never seen him so upset; never so upset he wouldn't speak. Although she had been in this situation countless times before, there was something about this situation that hit her harder than she expected. It didn't make sense to her; the loner, the rebel, Miss Independent. Why would it bother her if a boy decided not to stay? What did it matter? There were plenty of other people to experience and life was too short, right?
Then it hit her: she was in love with Tim. For the first time in her life, she not only cared for someone, but may have cared about someone more than herself. Sara became dizzy, bumped up against the table, knocking her candles over as she fell to her knees. She fought against it, but it was coming; she started to dry heaving, hyperventilate. She was... no, it couldn't... she was regret, remorse. How could that be?
Upon that realization the tears fell, snot ran. The mixture splashed on the floor, soaking her shirt as she wiped her face on her sleeves. Sara had never cried from emotional pain; feeling out of control did not sit well with her, but she couldn't control what was happening.
End Fiction.
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