Of course he'd be here. Why wouldn't he be.
That smile. That fucking smile; the roll of his eyes when his best friend pushes his shoulder.
Clips of us encase my mind, and summer felt like yesterday- but it wasn't. It's raining, the suns not shining anymore. I use to shine so much with him, but now I'm solemn in my solitude.
"I have commitment issues." He said, and yet he's doing the exact same thing that he was doing to me with another girl.
"What's wrong?" I hear my friend ask me.
"Nothing." I snap my eyes away from him once he notices my lingering eyes. I smile at my friend. "Need some fresh air."
I rush out the room, into the nearest bathroom. Tears form around my eyes.
I will not cry. I will not.
That doesn't help. I hate him. Hate.
You don't really. I hear myself say.
"Didn't know you were going to be here." His voice from behind me. He's followed me in here; of course to torment me for staring at him.
"You didn't have to know." I roll my eyes, as I try to wipe away the moisture on my cheeks.
"I know, I just-"
"What do you want?" I snap, looking away from him once I get no answer.
I bury my eyes into both my hands.
"I broke you. Didn't I?"
I look up to him, and there's no gloating, no smirk. He's concerned almost.
"Don't flatter yourself. I was broken before I met you. You just threw me away once you were finished." I storm past him out the door, but his hand grasp my hand.
I almost swing at him with my other arm, but familiarity of his touches causes me to close my eyes in a bliss.
"I'm always here, you know that, right."
"You were never there. All you cared about was yourself." I snap my hand away from him.
I know he means what he says, but all I can hear from him was pity.
