He broke her heart.

He broke her heart every day. He didn't seem to be able to draw the line between obligation and love. It was like the two words meant the same to him. She knew he wasn't stupid, she knew that he saw the way Eureka looked at Renton just like everyone else. She knew, that not matter how pig headed and stupid he was, that he couldn't just ignore what was right in front of his face.

Except her.

She couldn't help but think the last time he really saw her was that day she told him to take her with him. That she would go to the ends of the earth with him, she didn't care what that meant, that the Army would be after them and that they'd have to hide the rest of their lives. She didn't care so long as they could be together. He looked her in the eye and held her, there in her room.

Maybe they'd been so concerned with what the Gekko stood for that they forgot what they used to mean to each other. Maybe he stopped looking at her because he was too dedicated, and she wasn't dedicated enough. Maybe she just wasn't worth his time anymore. He'd always been dedicated, been so married to his work - but this. This was different. It wasn't that he didn't try. He did, sometimes. Feeble, awkward, (though despite what she wanted to admit) heartfelt advances or gestures, he tried. But the way he said her name. It was like none of that mattered.

It was all musings of someone who's self esteem had been driven into the ground. Constantly compared to the beginning and end of the world, Eureka. No one ever suggested directly, that she was fading into the background because she just wasn't spectacular or eye catching or whatever trait Holland found so enthralling in that girl. (She knew exactly why he was so obsessed with her, but somehow, somewhere it stopped being about being with Eureka, and started being she versus she). Just when the only person he talked about was some other girl, it hurt her. She was never going to win.

She wasn't so weak and frail (and stupid) that she couldn't go on without him, that her every thought and action needed his validation and attention. But when every night, every night she'd go to bed without him, and wake to find him sleeping on the couch. They shared a room once, it was theirs. Now it just seemed like he was squatting. Needed a place to sleep and had nowhere else to go, Talho was just kind enough to share her space with him. There stopped being a theirs, a them, a they.

The only they that existed was the crew and she was just part of that crew. But she wasn't going to just lay back and wallow in how terrible she felt about all this. She wasn't just going to wait for him to get over his stupid delusions about his position in life, and his stupid dedication, and his stupid blindness to the reality of the situation.

And one day, he'd realize what he was missing.

And by then, it might be too late.

And it'd be all his fault.