you

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"babe, i love you."

"fuck off."

you light a cigarette and stare at me, rolling your bloodshot eyes. you're drunk and angry and it's 3 a.m. you won't let me take you home and i don't know what to do; nothing i say seems to calm you down.

"babe, let's go home," i tell you again. "please. it's late and i hate being out here."

you snort, puffing out a cloud of smoke from your cigarette. "then leave."

"i'm not going anywhere without you," i tell you a bit resignedly. i look around us nervously, hating the feeling that this dark and empty alleyway gives me. it is aphotic and suffocating, and it feels like the perfect place to die. but then again, both you and i are already a little dead inside.

i just want to go home, but you're too stubborn. i feel frustrated and impatient at this point, because no amount of begging seems to convince you to leave this despairing place. but i can't leave you here alone, so i don't know what to do.

"please," i plead some more. "i don't feel safe. just let me take you home."

you glare at me with your bitter jade eyes. "you don't feel safe. so you don't think i'm good enough to protect you?"

"that's not what i said," i tell you, slowly raising my voice. i'm getting more and more irritated with you.

"that's what you meant," you spit, clenching your jaw. i flinch at your expression, suddenly feeling more afraid.

but i'm tired and i'm angry, so i don't remain quiet. "you know what? you're right," i hiss back at you, maintaining the same amount of venom in my voice as yours. "how the hell are you going to protect me when you can't even take care of yourself?"

you take a puff of your cigarette and blow the smoke into my face. "leave me alone," you growl at me. "i don't need your help. i'll go home when i fucking feel like it."

i gasp for clean air and shove you away from me, feeling so much hatred towards you. when i'd first fallen in love with you, i thought nothing in the world could ever make me feel anything but love towards you. but i was wrong. i was so goddamn wrong.

"fine," i reply in spite. "come home when you get your shit together."

and i storm off, leaving you there in the grim alleyway. i don't look back.

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a week passes before you show up at my door.

"i'm home," you say, sober and exhausted. your deep viridian eyes are completely lifeless, and there is a cimmerian shadow on your face indicating your defeat.

i want to scream at you but instead, i hug you. "where the hell have you been?" i whisper as tears stream down my face.

"trying to get my shit together," you reply, soundlessly crying and kissing me softly on my neck.

"and did you?" i ask.

you pull away from my embrace. "no."

i shut the door behind you, and take your hand in mine as i lead you to our living room. "welcome home," is all i have left to say.

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