Securing her coat around her, Elizabeth steps out into the harsh cold winter night, her boyfriend's words echoing through her mind. She knows that she's only angry because its true, but that didn't stop her anger from reaching new levels as she trudges through the snow. How had she allowed her life to come to this?

The more she thought of all the things she had sacrificed for him, of all the things that she continues to sacrifice, Elizabeth felt herself grow angrier and angrier. This isn't her! She's not the type to change for the happiness of others! She's the selfish one! She's the one that does things to make herself happy!

She's the girl that ran away from the home her parents dropped her in and traveled across the damn country on her own at fifteen, for crying out loud. She's not the weak girl, she never was. To see what she has become for the love of a boy made Elizabeth want to beat herself up.

Somehow she has become the girl that she usually made fun of. The kind of girl she usually chastised for being a push over and people-pleaser. Girls like that made her angry. Angry that they would put a guy's needs above their own. Angry that they couldn't see their true worth. An anger that's now directed inwardly, at herself.

Plopping down onto the bench on the Elm Street Pier, the fight with her boyfriend echoes through her mind, the reality check she hadn't known she needed. You're my girlfriend, he had shouted at her, you're supposed to agree with me. End of story.

She didn't agree with him. His fight with his brother made no sense at all. Why would she agree with him? What he had said next only proved to add fuel to flame that had begun to burn within her, sending a different kind of anger to flood through her. You don't question me, he continued through his rant, you just agree. How hard is that?

How hard was that?! Was he kidding? Maybe if she didn't have a brain, it wouldn't be hard. Maybe if she had been some kind of mindless bimbo, it wouldn't be hard! Maybe if she had been brainwashed and ridiculously stupid, it wouldn't have been hard.

"UGH!" she groans out loud, cursing herself for allowing things to get this far, to a point where agreeing with her boyfriend is supposed to be automatic. "How pathetic could you possibly be?"

"Depends on who you ask." a voice replies, causing her to open her eyes to see who has joined her. "You know its dangerous on these docks at night."

"Safety is overrated." she mutters, turning away from him to look out at the water. "If its so dangerous, what are you doing out here, Jason?"

"Needed a place to think." he admits, walking over to sit beside her on the bench. "Difference being that I have a gun and you don't."

"Maybe we should fix that."

"You hate guns." he points out with a serious tone, turning to face her. "You want to talk about it?"

"About what?" she challenges, turning to meet his serious gaze with one of her own.

"What has you out here this late."

"I'd rather not." she voices, forcing herself to look away again. "I feel stupid as it is. Talking about it will only make me feel worse."

"Okay." he relents, his change in tone causes her to return her gaze to his. "If you don't want to talk, how about a ride?"

"You really think a ride on your bike will fix this?"

"Maybe not fix it." he accepts, rising to his feet before holding out his hand to her. "But I know it'll help and so do you."

Staring into his eyes, her immediate instinct is to say no, her boyfriend wouldn't like it, but then she catches the thought and realizes just how pathetic it sounded. With an abrupt shake of her head, Elizabeth slides her hand into his, allowing him to guide her to his bike. She wants a ride. She always wants a ride. She'll be damned if she let her boyfriend's demands stop her.

Straddling the bike behind him once the helmet is secure on her head, Elizabeth wraps her arms around his abdomen, bracing herself for one of the best feelings in the world. As the bike roars into life, everything within her seems to follow suit, sending a flood of emotions to flow through her.

Faster and faster they ride through the streets, all the way up the winding road and back again, hitting every sharp turn with perfect precision. Even if she hasn't ridden on the back of a bike with anyone besides him, she's almost certain that riding with anyone else would never be the same as riding with him.

"Thanks for the ride." she voices as they stand outside her studio. "I swear there will never be a better feeling than being on the back of your bike."

"I can think of one." he admits, taking a deep breath rid his mind of the thoughts that have formed. "If you change your mind about that talk, you know where to find me."

"Doubt I will, but thanks." she replies, allowing her eyes to close at the touch of his lips against her forehead, something he has grown to do more and more. "Goodnight, Jason."

"Goodnight."

Watching him walk off, Elizabeth couldn't help the slight smile that touches her lips, thoughts manifesting that she had never truly allowed herself to think before. With a shake of her head, she turns around and makes her way into her studio, reminding herself that now wasn't a time for thoughts like that. No. For once, its time to think of herself and find a way to fix what the world has changed within her.