hearts in your hands

“Careful...” he comments as she idly tosses the object into the air. Up and down up and down like some game that has just been invented. He flinches as the object fly’s higher and higher, never once taking his eyes off the prized possession. A slip of the wrist, a slight gasp from the boy, a soft shatter as glass meets the floor.  The girl walks away. “It’s not a toy..,” whispers the boy to nobody. Slowly he picks up the shattered pieces of his heart.