Ok this was supposed to be a one shot but hell, we'll see :)

Phil's POV

I wish I could move. Do something. Anything. But I can't. I'm paralysed by it. The sight of you... your clothes barely covering your body. You gave it away. To... Fuck, I don't know who. And that shouldn't matter, because I should have ripped his throat out the second I laid eyes on him. But how did I even manage to do that? Fuck, I only came back to grab my jacket. Thought I'd be in and out, grabbing it from the side table in my room. Only it wasn't there. And can you believe the thought of running into you after so long, with things so different actually made me nervous? I almost didn't go back at all, thinking it could wait until I knew you weren't on my floor.

And then I heard you. And God, I wish I hadn't. Sounds like that, coming from you, keep me from sleeping every night whilst I try and convince myself that it's all over, all... that... it's done. It is. So yeah, it was really concern that made me go across the corridor, towards your room, real friendly concern that made me feel quite so furiously sick.

Yeah right, look at you. You could barely stand up and yet you look like you care less than I have to pretend I do. You pull the door back and fall heavily against the door-frame, letting your head loll to the side as your hair falls across your face.

"Where'd he go?"

"Not tell you he was leaving then?" I snipe.

But it seems to go completely over your head. You smile wryly. "Didn't tell me much really."

"Get a name?"

Lifting your hand, you sweep you fringe from your eyes. "What's it to you?"

I feel myself jolt. What's it to me? Oh, if you knew... I've never felt sicker in my life and I'm really battling the urge to tear out of this hotel and rip him in half, whoever he is. I couldn't care I'm so wound up. He's just long jumped way over the-

Punk, stop it! She isn't mine anymore remember? That's why-

That's why she's doing this.

I ignore your words, instead throw you a disgusted look, feeling my pierced lip curl as I glance you up and down. "Look at the state of you..."

I want you to look back at me in the same way, have some sort of flare inside you I can still recognise as April. But you just giggle, nodding your head to agree with me.

"Yeah, it got a bit mad. But you know how it is... in the heat of the moment-"

I can see the fire in your eyes, existing to do little more than torture me, challenging me to come back at you with some smart remark like always. Jesus Christ, there's no other way to get through a day without you anymore. Because still, you are so close and yet you could never be further away. Everything I try so hard not to remember of you has never really left me and my God, we both know how damn hard I've tried to forget. Only now, you've truly gone and done it - and I can't believe you did. So I can't look at you, gaze settled deliberately somewhere else because I feel so sick.

I know you notice and I see the way you smile, victorious somehow. You callous bitch.

You straighten up and lazily pad back into your room, leaving me jolting to keep down my nausea as my stomach lurches at the impact of your door slamming shut. And me? I'm just off to put my fist through a wall.

Well, actually, no. Hell, I'm angry enough to do it, but you know me... and that's exactly the problem. Why do it to yourself, April? I'll never believe you got an ounce of pleasure out of having him paw at you. Honestly, could you have wanted him on top of you, with nothing to offer but clumsy groping hands? He could never have given you what you need, never have touched you in the ways you must be to make it all worth your while. And oh, I bet he thought it was Christmas, didn't he? Eager and willing... but still never enough.

But I know you too. Have you forgotten, or is that one fact the whole point? Was seeing the thunder on my face enough to make it all a little less laborious? Did revenge taste a little sweeter then, darlin'? Did it? Because I know that's what this is. It's revenge. Because we're not together anymore. Does it make you feel sick to to think I could be with another, but don't you know I just needed things to be normal?

Oh no, I realise bitterly, I'd love to know what you'd say about that; I can already hear you telling me that us, what we had, never existed in normality and that allows you the right to move on first. And you're right. I know you are. I was just never prepared for it. Did you know it'd kill me this much? Is this... one fumble... is this you really moving on? Or is this you hurting still, so determined to give me a slap in the face?

How could you do this to me?

April's POV

I let the sheet drop from around me as I leave you to stomp off back to your room and try and hide your rage. You are such a child, Punk. You deserve to feel as sick as I have done these last few weeks, seeing you with her? What right have you to be over me, when-? And how could you insult everything we had together and choose her? Tell me, were you really that desperate to write me off as wrong? She's just a simpering, sickening woman and you... you made it all happen you know. I blame you because it is your fault. What kind of spineless bastard blames a woman for returning everything he wanted? I gave my everything to you whole heartedly and what? Suddenly friends is the name of the game? Oh why did we ever bother?

I stand against the hotel room door, shivering with cold. And you know what? I could pretty much claw Whatever-That-Guy's-Name-Might-Have-Been's touch from my skin. But believe me, I don't do it to gratify the way you are down the corridor, licking your wounds, wondering why I'd ever want to give up what was yours to any other man. And the answer? You're not mine anymore and I'm not sure I was ever yours. I'm my own person now, alone in the misery of this world. And now, I'm out to make my own mistakes. Big ones. And then maybe, when I look back on my wreck of a life, the idea I was ever stupid enough to fall in love won't feel as catastrophic as it does right now.

This is my life, Phil and I'm determined to have no more regrets. So to see the agony in your face; you know, in that moment you were silently praying I could not tell; it makes it easier. You deserve to know the pain you've forced me to suffer through no fault of my own. All I ever did was love. So now I shan't dare. I'll live the way you did when we first met. Free and easy, without a care for anyone or anything in the world. I refuse to feel ashamed. Whatever-His-Name-Was really wasn't as bad as you're no doubt convincing yourself he was. I'd be perfectly happy to take him as you have taken her. To spite me, to forget the world's worth of better lovers...

But life has to move on, doesn't it? You should know... you gave mine a hard enough shove.

So I carefully dress in fresh clothes, a well meant smile on my lips, no breath of a lie as I brush through my hair. The bristles keep tickling at the back of my ear and as I tug the brush all the way down to the ends of my hair, I realise that my little diamond stud is missing from my lobe.

"Shit." I curse beneath my breath, dropping down onto my knees on the carpet. I press my ear against the fibres, peeking beneath the bed and around my case. I'm not losing one of those... my sister gave them to me from Tiffany's one year. I reach in, grappling to feel anything at all. I find a couple of old receipts that make me wince to look at the sub-totals, pennies; and then... something else. Soft and scrunched, I hold the material tight in my fist, trying to figure what it might be whilst I still have absolutely no hope of seeing it. So I pull it out, falling back on my knees in defeat as I realise what I hold.

It's your Cro Mags t-shirt... in my suitcase... how have you not missed this? How did you lose it?

Oh. How else?

I bet you know it too, but don't have the nerve to even raise the words to claim back this, your favourite. I have to physically stop myself burying my face in the material to become intoxicated by your scent. Oh for God's sake April, pull yourself together, will you? What choice do I have? I can't go on romanticising every detail of you can I? Because for you to know that's what I do... well, you're the one that gave up.

Bravely, I drag myself up from the floor and make that monumental decision. I could have just stuffed it back into the case, pretend I never saw it, never had the memories of all the times we've spent together in my bed begging to be thought of just once more to hurt me a little more. I have to be better than that, stronger or because of you, I'll never know myself again. I won't let you do that to me. So, fighting to keep my breathing regular and steady, I grow a little stronger for every heavy step down I take towards your room, the resolve hardening within me to meet this moment head on and have it gone, never to be thought of again.

I drop my gaze as you open the door, stroking across the folds of your t-shirt with my thumbs as I hold it in my hands. I draw in a deep breath, hoping I sound pretty much nonchalant as I carelessly hand it to you, already turning away.

"I found this-"

I catch you looking so reluctantly up at me out the corner of your eye as you begin to unfold it. "What is it?"

I don't answer you, feeling one of them bastard lumps rise in my throat that I wish so badly I could simply choke down. I just smile weakly turn back towards you, needing anything more than to look at you right now.

You go ahead and unfold it. "Fuck, I thought I'd lost this-"

"Yeah well, you haven't, have you?" I can't seem to help but snap, biting desperately down into my lip as I realise I've done it. Tears are burning in my eyes that I can't seem to blink back, but I'm damned if I'll let them fall. I'm stronger now, you hear me?

"Where did you find it? April?"

I compose myself and face you, somehow managing to mean the soft smile I send your way. I hunch my shoulders, telling myself and you it doesn't matter anymore.

"At the bottom of my case."

You look back at me like I just punched you in the chest. How can everything you wanted once now seem to scare you so much? I pity you and I never thought I could.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"Well, wait...?"

"Lost an earring." I pull gently on my empty lobe. You don't even blink.

"Not found it?"

"Nope."

You just nod, and I know that it took all your strength and creativity just to ask that last question. What the Hell happened to you? You can't lay the blame at my door this time. I'm just here, never doing anything you didn't want me to do in the first place.

Silently, I turn to go back to my room. I did what I came to do. But I see you and I just have to ask.

"Why's it like this, Punk?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do." I insist, amazed at how calm I have remained. Maybe it's just not in me to be angry anymore. "Why have you made it so hard?"

And you choke slightly on your quiet, mocking laughter as you glare at me. "I'm sorry, did I force you to go at it with that-" The anger that burns across your face tells me you're ready to brand the nameless guy with every name under the sun instead, but I'm not going to allow that, because you know what, you make me angry too!

I turn my head away, rolling my eyes; "You'd love to think it's all about you wouldn't you?" You glare at me more intensely than ever. I think you're starting to hate, because I'm not down on my knees, breaking for you. At least you've never lost your nerve I suppose, but my God, it grates. "Get over yourself, Phil." I scoff. "God knows, you got over us quick enough."

Oh Christ, I said that out loud, didn't I?

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, you're not." you answer coldly.

"Look, I- I did it because I wanted to. The guy's nothing to do with you, like she's nothing to do with me yeah?"

"Whatever."

"Fine." I snipe, fed up with your cold childishness, even if I should probably be used to it by now. "But this is the way you wanted it remember?"

And with that, I rush back up to my room, the soles of my bare feet stinging as the fibres of the carpet burn against them. I jump out of my skin at the force with which I slam my door. I guess I'm a little more angry than I can bear to realise. Can't you see I'm trying, so damn painstakingly hard to let go of everything you make like you've forgotten? Don't you see it's only you that stops me moving on?

If you must insist on playing this tedious role of my friend, then... how can I cling to the past? It means nothing now does it? The man I love so fiercely still... he doesn't exist because... because you refuse to remember he was ever within you. Fine. Then as of now Phil, I want you out of my life, and maybe then we can get on with playing this game without me having to always feel like some part of me is missing. I'd rather destroy the treacherous memories myself than suffer the knowledge they are forever lost. And believe me, I'm ready to do that. I need to be myself again. Myself alone. I need, just like you, to forget I was ever part of anything bigger than that, better and so damn consuming.

And all my memories of you Phil, they're hidden away in one gift box, a messy stack of one hundred and forty seven photographs precisely. A couple are likely to be ruined with tears by now. Oh God, you don't know how many times I've so lovingly gone through this box since you started sleeping with her. I'm pathetic, but then I'm the one that doesn't want to give up aren't I? How can I when I know how good it felt. I look at these photos, feeling your arms around me in the warmth of the sun, your kisses always on my feverish skin and I don't understand how you could make yourself forget darlin', or why you'd want to. Every one of these moments felt so good. Immortalised so they might last forever. But I don't want to be tortured anymore. I don't want to be so desperate to remember what you now say was never real.

So this time, I don't even lift the lid. I just take the box from my bag and hold it heavy in my hands. I drop down onto the balls of my feet again and go back to your room, knocking hsrd on the door. You open it, letting me make my way inside. With my back to you I can still feel how close you are and I turn my head with such a precise suspicion, you frighten me a little.

"You knew I'd feel like this didn't you? You knew I'd feel this sick."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't fuck me about!" you yell, with such a raw pain. "The idea of you, with... oh fuck, I could kill him, I could-"

"You're jealous."

The word out, oh you hate me all the more for it, slamming your fist down hard against the wall. "You think I want to be?"

"But you've... you've got no right." I whisper, stunned. But you just look back at me all the more maddened and I feel my voice shiver. "I never gave up on you! I never said it was over!"

"Yeah well, it is, isn't it?" you hiss. But the venom dies away in the next second and you struggle with the words you so need to get out. "Was he... the first?"

"Yes."

"Right. And did you... feel like this when I-"

"-started fucking her?" I finish bluntly, my own agony roaring to the surface. "Worse."

But you shake your head, so stubbornly refusing to believe me. "You can't feel worse than this."

"Says who?" I demand hatefully. "This is one day Phil. I've had her... with you on a loop in my head for months. It's like you're trying to kill me and I hope to God you feel something close right now because it's no more than you deserve."

"So how many more are there going to be April, eh? How many?"

"Why does it matter anymore? I'm nothing to do with you, am I?"

Maybe that's what hurt you the most. As I reach over to push my box over onto the side, you seize my arm, exerting a painful pressure on my wrist so I can't put it down. But you don't even notice you're hurting me. Maybe you don't care.

"C'mon then, friend to friend, how good was he?"

Your words make me forget the pain that coarses through my wrist. And I can't hold off the smirk that flickers to the side of my mouth. With my other hand, I carefully sweep my fringe away from my eyes and give you the most piercing look I can. "In comparison to who, Phillip?" I question, already knowing your real question. "My own divine ex boyfriend?"

You shove me away. But I regain my balance pretty easily. I'm not down Phillip. I won't give you the satisfaction darlin'.

"Christ knows how you ever thought this would work." I tell you scathingly. "I tried to tell before, you know I did. Friends never do what we've done- what you wanted!"

"It wasn't just me!"

"No, it wasn't. I know that. It's you that wants to forget. And me, I've never given up trying to give you what you want, Phil. But you must know this is never going to fit!"

I know you do. I can still hear your words in my ears. "Friends? Saying it doesn't make it true." Only, you never did say it. You just left me. And you know, in all your pretences, I've never stopped. Only, you've never given me anything to hold on to have you? So, I have to know;

"How'd you get it straight in your head, Phil? C'mon tell me, how have you justified this to yourself? Sleeping with me one week, her the next? How do you make yourself forget that's what we've done?"

You gulp down half a breath, gripping the edge of the dresser so fiercely your knuckles have whitened like the whole thing could come apart in your hands. "I have to." you mumble, an edge in your voice that tells me how much you hate me. Why baby, why do you hate me? Because you know I've had another's touch in your place? Because now you know what you gave up? Why does it affect you so much, why do you stand with your whole body trembling, the muscles in your back twitching in vicious spasms you cannot control? We're apart now. We're done.

But now I know that against your will, you remember.

"What for? For the company? Come on Phil, I never got told what he said to you that day. You just upped and left me. Did he promise you more money, a longer title run, if only you were a good boy and ended everything going on between us? Everything you started?"

"Shut up..." you hiss warning, gripping the edge tighter still, shaking your head fiercely from side to side to block out my words. "Shut up!"

"I never wanted you! I told you, the first night, I told you I wanted to keep my job!"

"Well, so do I!" you yell in aggravation, slamming your hand down onto the surface, wishing so much more it was a fist.

"So why did I have to love you? Why did you make me? Because I did, but I loved you for my own! And I think you left me because you were afraid of losing everything you worked hard to get. He told you it would all be alright this way, didn't he?"

"It will." you gulp desperately, fighting to convince no-one but yourself. "It just... It just needed to stop. Now it has. It'll be alright."

"Fuckin' Hell, he's got you right where he wants you, hasn't he? How has it stopped, Phil? I should be able to sleep my way round this company, just like you did and you shouldn't want to bat an eyelid because you shouldn't care anymore. But you do, don't you? You really think I'll hold back just because you don't want to hear things about me when I've heard things about her for so long? I won't. So just you keep screwing around, friend, and I... I'll sleep with as many men as it takes until I find the one that's not ashamed to remember everything we've done, alright? I don't want you looking through me anymore. None of this is my fault. I'm moving on too."

You straighten your back, staring hard out the window as you laugh, cold and mocking before you glance icily back over your shoulder at me. "Course you are. Because nothing beats whoring about town does it, April?"

"You tell me." I hit back coolly. "I'm only following your lead. Pretending I need somebody. Anybody. Just like you. I mean, how else did we arrive at her?"

Your whole face darkens. Gotta say, I'm impressed. Well, more amused. Because really, you should be knocking me halfway across the room, you just know I'm going to love tearing strips out of the smug little whore. But you're not. And that tells me you don't really care.

"Leave her out of it." you growl.

"Out of what?" I press, feigning innocence. "There's nothing anymore is there? Still... smacks of desperation doesn't it. But I guess, she was there. Ready and willing, just as desperate as ever. If I didn't know better-"

"You don't."

"-I'd say you suited each other. But it's painful really. I mean, what, you going to build a picture of domestic bliss for people to approve of?"

You turn steadily, glaring at me with pure hate in your eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh I do. I know all too well. He's really pulling your strings isn't he?" I sigh gently and I know you feel patronised. Me, I just feel sad. "Mind, you do seem to have a habit of forcing things it turns out you don't really want..."

"It wasn't like that." you snap, glowering at me.

"I don't care." I bite back, jolting a little as I realise how true that is. I don't care. "You were supposed to keep it together, not give up. But hey, as long as you heal right, never mind the mess I was in! I never wanted it, you made me love you! I don't even know who you are anymore, but... you're not who I remember. You're some... cruel imitation I'm left with. Christ knows what I found in you to love so much."

It sounds as though you hardly know the words even left your mouth, a defeated whisper holding them. "I never knew either."

"You sounded genuine." I point out flatly. "You know, I really believed every word you said, the day it ended. You didn't have to let that happen. None of it ever needed to happen."

"No." you concede, shrugging.

"So why did it? I could have been on my knees wanting to keep you and you wouldn't have seen me. Do you remember, is that why you look through me, so you don't have to?"

You just blink and I can already tell how glassy your eyes are, blocking me out.

"I gave you your life back." you state simply, shrugging as if that's it and I should be eternally grateful.

"So what?" I push, feeling my own agony begin to fizz in my chest.

"So- So now it can all be alright! We... can go back to being what we were."

"Yeah? Acquaintances right? Because we were never really friends, were we Punk?"

You flinch. You forced this and yet it's you that can't stand it. It's you that tore it down, let me turn the world on its head to tell you that I love you.

"No." you manage. "We weren't..."

I tilt my head thoughtfully to the side, contentedly studying your face. "Close or-" I purse my lips. "-not?"

You don't say anything. You glare at me and then decide to become fixated with a spot on the floor. But I'm not going to give up give up. For all the pain you made me suffer for your facade of love, I deserve some answers, and to torment you a little in the process.

"C'mon Phil, let's think about it. How can we make this work. How friendly can we be, hugs and a peck on the cheek? Because I know what will happen. You'll be squirming so much inside, you'll miss and nearly, so nearly, kiss me like you used to. And you won't want to, you'll try not to, but you won't be able to stop yourself thinking about all the ways you used to kiss me. And I know what you'll be doing for the rest of that night. You'll be stood in the corner, really watching just how close I am to the men you don't know, and never admitting to yourself why you feel so sick, what it is you really want. And I'll only be able to give you the kind of look, the kind of smile friends give to each other. I'll have to look at you the way I look at Celeste. You really ready for that?"

A little too quickly, you scoff, your whole face crumpling in disgust. "Fuck... do you hear yourself?"

I just smile tightly. "I'd rather me than you. I've heard way too much of you. But then, you don't even notice I'm here to listen anymore. Where do you get off on punishing me? I did this the way you wanted - I've done everything you wanted. And what, you can just bury everything you're supposed to have felt because suddenly some fat sweaty bastard in a cheap suit tells you it isn't in your best interests?"

You're motionless as you look back at me. But I can tell you're antsy, you're shifting your weight really gradually, like you're trying to separate the ground so it can swallow you up. That doesn't happen though so you push against the side and almost leave the room. Just like that. If only I could get away that easy.

"Face it, Punk!" I call out blindly, not knowing what you'll do as you hear me. "None of this is really you. It's Paul. The long-awaited third party in what you used to call our relationship. And what right's he got to do this to me, eh? Why's he get to take you from me when I did all the fighting for us?"

Somehow, when I focus on you, I see you're mildly amused, licking fleetingly at your dry lips as you laugh. "You?"

"Me, yeah."

"That's rich."

"Oh Phil, don't go off on one. You wore me down into bed, nothing else. You talked me into going public. You're the one that's let it all fall apart. Not me. I'm just here, and I wouldn't feel any different if I didn't know you try and pretend it never happened. I don't want a man who's that gutless. How's he made you so weak?"

I know nothing could infuriate you more. You whirl round, eyes ablaze with the kind of fury to keep me alive. "I'm not weak."

"It's not your own mind anymore, of course you are."

Your lips curve into a sneer. "You just can't handle it can you? I don't want you like that."

"No?"

"No." you hiss back stiffly. I bow my head gracefully, accepting this.

"Then I guess you better learn?" You frown in your confusion and I smile. "Wouldn't want you to miss now would we?"

You go completely rigid. You're stone as I come confidently towards you. You don't trust me, but that's OK - I was a fool to trust you too. I stand in front of you, almost able to taste the breath you won't breathe. I stretch up and press my lips to your cheek. You're quivering. You're scared.

"It's OK." I whisper, amidst a soft laugh. "I give up too."

I hear your half breath get lodged sharply in your throat. And the next thing I know your hand is tight around my wrist, jerking my whole arm. I turn steadily back on my heel, knowing I'll meet the utter confusion in your face.

"Never thought I would huh? Well, if this is you, then what I remember, it's lies isn't it, Phil? And I'm free to fuck my way through the country because... well, there was never anyone to hurt. You don't know how. You just want me there for when you get bored of her, because you know I'll be just like you, I'll tell you to use me. But that's all. I'm so sick of loving you."

"You just want a reaction..." you hiss spitefully from the doorway as I move back, away from the bathroom. I splutter indignantly on my next breath.

"You wanted to kill him! You can't have it both ways Phil! You either let me get on with it or-"

"He had no right to be in your room..."

"This is my life, it's you with no place there anymore! You remember, you got with her just to kid yourself you forget! How's that working, sleeping with her in the same bed that we-?"

You wince, fighting to breathe steadily as you force your eyes shut, whispering; "Shut up..."

"C'mon, what do you see when you're there, what are you not remembering?"

You scowl, eyes snapping open in the next second just to spite me, eyes ablaze with anger.

"Jesus Christ Phil, you're pathetic. I mean, I never really thought it could work out but... going back to this? It's pointless. You know we can never go back, you must know it. Because you can't ignore it can you? You want to, but you can't because, hey, it's alright for you to hook up with the first tart to pout at you but, me? What, I'm just supposed to stay, existing, for your gratification? You wouldn't do this to anyone else."

"You know it's different."

"How?" I demand shrilly, the anger beginning to pound. "You left me! And somehow, I've learnt to live with that. It's over. Fine. But I want my life back. It's not yours anymore. I just want to get on. And you... you can carry on this way."

"Yeah?" you snipe coldly. "And what about you?"

"What about me?" I challenge.

"Are you anyones' now?"

"I live this way for you. I said I'd do it just to know you! But I don't do I? When did you change so much? I never thought you'd pretend it never happened, I never thought you'd make it this hard!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Don't let him take everything from us. You know how it was, you know he's wrong. But hey,as long as he doesn't stop your pocket money eh? God... why can't you just admit it was good, that's all I need but instead... you just pretend I don't exist anymore. Do you know how cruel that is? You don't speak to me unless you have to, and even then you don't look me in the eye! And yet, the second I try and do something for me-"

You flinch, your whole face like a wall of stone as you glower at me. "And did he?" you push. "Do it for you?"

"Managed fine, thanks. But then... you knew that. That's what's got you like this. Come on, tell me it was friendly concern that's wound you up this much? Tell me that's why you want to tear his throat out..."

"I told you..." you growl in frustration, kicking at one of the cupboards to vent the emotion you can't comprehend. "I don't want to feel like this."

Oh God, you infuriate me so badly. I might as well be banging my head against a brick wall. I know you understand what I need to hear you say. I just need to know you remember. But you won't. Suddenly it's dirty and twisted, everything you so convinced me in the beginning that it could never be. And I hate you for that. I hate that you're no longer brave enough to acknowledge the man I love.

"Yeah?" I hiss back, seizing the gift box, weighed down with too many memories I know more than ever are pointless now. "Well I don't want to remember a pack of lies! Here!"

I thrust it at you, but it's not in your grasp as it leaves my hands. The box clatters to the floor, the lid dislodged and photos spilling out everywhere. I force my eyes tight shut, not needing to ever see another sun-kissed you, holding a smiling me in a way that somehow made me believe you'd never let go. How do you make me out to be such a fool, Phil?

Carefully, I focus on you, nothing but you. You're not moving, completely stunned as photos flutter down all around to the floor. You don't know what you're supposed to do, say, or think. Don't want to mess with the iron set up you've worked out in your head eh? God forbid you remember.

"What... What are all these?"

I hardly know anymore.

"You should burn them." I answer flatly. "You'll probably enjoy it."

Your lips fall in confusion and leaning against the back of one of the chairs around the table, you gingerly pick up just one photo. "Oh..."

"Yeah. Oh. I want to forget too. I don't want to remember someone who was never real. Just get rid of them."

You rise steadily, putting the photo down on the table. You nibble anxiously at your pierced lip, not saying a word as you look at me, and oh, I wish you wouldn't. You've always known the power you have over me, you've always known how to use it. And in that look, so hurt and confused, you're doing it right now.

"I hate you." I hiss sincerely. "I hate you so much."

Silent still, you nod gently, taking half a step forward. I stumble three back, backed into a corner.

"And I know you hate it, the idea I could want anyone after you! I know it hurts because I'm the one that's been living it for the last few months! So maybe I do mean to hurt you too, why shouldn't I? I just need you to remember that... it meant something, anything, and you just don't dare. But maybe used is as used does eh? Maybe it was only ever sex, maybe you never needed feeling! I envy you!"

There's no flicker of emotion on your face yet, but me, the pain's raw, it's spilling out and I blame you. Still, you come so gradually forward, soundless, just listening. You're probably not taking it in, but still, you have no choice but to listen, just like I don't have a choice when you take her to bed in the place of everything we had that felt so good. How's she doing with filling that void?

I should have known there was a threat coming. I stopped breathing the moment I felt the heat of your body on mine. I want out, but you only offer me one escape. You grab me so roughly, I would have yelled out in furious protest, if only your lips had not crushed down to mine, stealing my breath before I even knew what words I could scream out to keep you back...