It is SO good to be BACK. =D

Story can be read from any person's POV, although it's technically Style friendship (or minor slash if that's how you choose to see it).

Short story. Just so ya'll know.

"This has to be quick," you tell me.

"Yeah," I sigh. Why make it any harder than it is, right?

"I can't stay for long."

I nod, not lifting my eyes from the ground. "I understand."

I'm terrified to look at you. I'm worried that the fear and pain in me is visible and I don't want to scare you away. You can't go away. Not yet.

You reach out a hand and cup my chin, lifting my face. I push down, forcing you to lose your grip. You're silent for a moment, and then you speak, angrier. "Look, I'm sorry that you have a problem with this, but you don't have to act like a kid."

Your voice cracks at the end and I shake my head. You're right. I am being childish, but you're hurting me. Why can't I hurt you back? An eye for an eye? It's only fair. Right?

I glance up at your face expecting to see hard lines and annoyance at my reactions, but instead view only pain and something I can't distinguish.

I can't look at you anymore, so I decide to look through you. Past your stupid sewage colored eyes and your unclean skin and your cropped-too-short hair and your ugly forest green outfit.

You're speaking now. "I'm so sorry—"

I frantically shake. Please stop talking.

"—wish I could—"

Please stop.

"—need it."

"Oh, shut up!" I yell. You gently place a hand on my shoulder and I shrug it off. I'm angry now and if you even think about touching me again, I doubt I could stop myself from murdering you.

"What did I even do!" you scream at me and I flinch back into one of the trees, feeling the bark lift up my shirt and scrape against the skin on my back. "What did I do?" you ask more quietly.

And now I'm screaming at you. What did you do? You broke me without realizing it. And now you're leaving me for dead. "You stupid, worthless, good-for-nothing jack—" I'm yelling profanities now, and I watch you shrink back slightly. Yeah? I hope it hurts.

The words are still draining from my lips, but with less heart behind them and more heartache.

"I hate you." My breath hitches slightly and you look down.

"I know." You pause a second to look over your shoulder. A few men are walking towards us, wearing the same dusty green as you. One of them nods at me and salutes you. You're too busy staring at me to take any heed to them, but you lift up your hand in recognition.

"Everyone's waiting on you," one of them says.

"I have to go," you whisper, reaching towards me. You attempt to pull me into a one armed hug, but I sidestep causing your arm to swing back down. You wince. "I won't forget you."

"I'll forget you," I sneer. That isn't true at all, but I need you to understand what this is doing to me.

You reach out for my hand grasping it slightly. Your fingers are warm and I grip them tightly, not allowing them to leave. You softly pry them off, but I continue to squeeze until I only feel the cold autumn air and then the numbing sensation of my nails digging into my palm.

You turn, and begin walking away, following the other two men. You're all laughing, and I shut my eyes tight, hoping the blackness will drown your voice. I open them and now it's raining. I can feel the water on my face. It's warm and uncomfortable and I wonder why you aren't getting wet. I blink, and feel my eyes well up. Oh. I'm only crying.

I look towards you, one last time. One more glance, then I'm going to leave with the little dignity that you left me with.

You turn back around, and mouth something. "Olive juice."

Olive juice? Olive juice? You just left me crying and broken and after everything I said to you, all you can think of is olive juice! I'm too livid to form words and it takes all my internal strength not to bawl.

You whisper it again, still keeping your eyes locked on my face.

"I love you."

And now I'm falling to my knees, clutching my chest. I always thought it was an over exaggeration, but I can feel it. My heart hurts. I can literally feel it breaking into little pieces. If you loved me so much, you wouldn't be leaving.

I stand up to tell you this, but you're already boarding the plane and I don't have any energy to run to you.

I choke out a sob. "Yeah. Me, too."