𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

I will always love you more than him

Warnings: Infidelity, kind of toxic.

The night had started out like any other night. It was boring, until it wasn't. She made it fun, like she always did, and had brought you to a party, it was New Year's Eve after all.

The night flew by, people had fun and cheered, and she held her arm around you.

She was laughing with the other people, too engaged in the conversation to notice the way you adored her from the sidelines.

"Three, two..." people cheered with champagne glasses in their hands. Before you knew it, you felt her soft lips on yours. It was a tradition after all, so you kissed her back.

It didn't last long, unfortunately.

People didn't question her actions. No one cared that she hadn't brought her fiancée, or that she kissed her best friend instead of him.

Maybe they were too inebriated to pay any attention to it. You were both high, everybody had to take the edge off somehow.

How else would they keep up the act of feeling happy and content with their life?

Eventually the party died down. Some people were passed out on the couches and there was glitter on the floor. Girls were carrying their shoes down in the lobby, soon disappearing out the door only to hail a taxi.

You asked to walk Phoebe home, but she had to carry you.

"You should stay here for the night, since you can't get home safely."

You knew she was right. But this was how it always started.

She sat you down on the couch and you felt like the room was slightly spinning. Then she sat down beside you and her laughter filled the room.

"Are you good?" she asked as she pulled herself together.

"Surprisingly, yes."

"Good," she said while leaning into the pillows.

Getting high with her was now routine. It always ended the same way, with regrets. Then you both would swear to not make the same mistake again, until it was too late.

"You look so pretty in this light," Phoebe said in a hushed tone, like she feared others might hear her even though the two of you were alone.

"Why are you whispering?" you asked, whispering back to her and poked her arm.

"I don't know..." she said and laughed while looking around the room.

"Well, you look even prettier," you stated, and she turned her head to look at you. She didn't have to open her mouth to speak, her eyes told a story of their own.

The look in her eyes were kind but rough, like she was tired, or high. Which was exactly what she was. Too stoned to make good choices.

Her hand slowly made its way to yours, her fingers grazing your own. She looked down only to look right back up when you didn't move your hand away. A soft smile tugging at her lips, like a shy smirk.

She carefully intertwined your hands and exhaled in relief. It was subtle, but you noticed it.

You paid attention to everything about her.

In a crowd full of people, you would always observe her. She was always on your mind, and it was hard to distinguish if it was right or wrong of you to think of her so often.

"Why do we keep doing this?" you asked her, knowing how all this would play out.

"I don't know what you mean..." she answered, trying to avoid this conversation.