A/N: I know I said in my profile I had a hard time writing angst, but tonight is one of those nights and boom: angst.

He'd hurt her.

He never meant to, but he had.

This woman named Maleficent, whom he loved more than his own life… He had managed to fucking hurt her. Since day one she'd warned him things were not going to be easy with her, she'd been honest enough to tell him she was afraid, she'd been hurt before and trusting someone was something she hardly ever did, but for him, Maleficent said, she was willing to take a leap of faith, even if jumping was a slow process.

Diaval knew she was something precious, Maleficent was not the kind of woman you met on a daily basis. In fact, he considered himself incredibly lucky to have met her, she was a rare beauty. Smart, with a sarcastic sense of humour and a spirit so free and full of life he'd had a hard time believing she was real. It was this knowledge of having her by his side what made him overstep his boundaries; he didn't like it when she mentioned her ex-boyfriend Stefan, Diaval hated the fact that he still had the guts to text her; Maleficent never answered, but it didn't make him less suspicious.

When he called it out on her, she was practically choking in her alibis until he saw something snapping in her eyes. Suddenly, Maleficent realized she needn't explain anything to him because she hadn't done anything. It was just Diaval and his jealousy. It took him six months to make her accept his proposal of moving in together, and in less than five seconds after starting that conversation, Maleficent was out the door wearing nothing but her pyjama shorts, a tank top and her purse. Not even shoes. Six months gone to the waste in seconds.

Diaval could pinpoint the exact moment he saw her heart breaking before storming out of their apartment.

For a week he hadn't heard a thing from her, he'd texted her, called her and even tried to talk to her friends, but nothing seemed to work. When he thought he wasn't able to try harder even if he wanted to, she picked up the phone.

"Maleficent?"

"We're over, Diaval."

Then the line was dead, and he felt sick. Another week went by and he was at a bar, trying to clear his mind. He wasn't the type of man who solved his problems with alcohol, but at this point he'd do anything to get her out of his mind, to get rid of the guilt that was eating him alive… he'd give anything to just stop feeling.

It was then, when he looked to his right that he saw her. She was as beautiful as ever, flashing a smile to Stefan. They were at the entrance of the bar; he was backing her up against the door frame and touching her shoulders.

Watching that was like a stab to his heart, cold and direct. But he couldn't look away either.

When Stefan kissed her Diaval felt like he was asleep, his whole body went numb and he prayed he was dreaming. But he wasn't; Maleficent was kissing him back, touching his chest while Stefan slid his hands under her dress. It was only a kiss… how could it change so suddenly? He then saw him whisper something to her ear and she nodded; Stefan took her hand in his and dragged her to the sidewalk. Diaval's neck couldn't be more twisted, but he refused to tear his eyes away from them; to his dismay, she was calling a cab.

This was it.

They were going to sleep together.

For fuck's sake, Maleficent didn't love that guy. He was just the rebound, why was she doing that to herself?

When she finally got a cab, Diaval couldn't look.

This was really, really killing him. He'd wanted everything at once and ended up with nothing. To know Maleficent had been willing to give herself entirely to him if he only gave her the time…

Fuck.

Diaval ordered another whiskey as he opened up his eager eyes and watched as an infinite amount of cabs drove by, he wondered which of them could be driving Maleficent to what he knew would be the worst mistake of her life.