AN: Ah may I add this is my first collab with the one, and only fabulous Snickers3339! Enjoy!

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Another breakup - And here I was thinking, that this one could have lasted.

"Goodnight and goodbye is right, Jonas," I snarled bitterly at the faded memory of a photo.

The doorbell rang, and I groaned, tossing the picture to the side. I hoped my brother would get the door, so I could continue my moping.

There was a soft knock on my door, and I muttered an accommodation.

"Miley?"

I rolled my eyes. Just what I needed - A talk.

"Mitch," I stated, in a monotonous voice.

"I heard about.. It."

"Hm. Join the rest of the world, why don't you?"

"Miley - Look - You know- I never really liked him.. He- He wasn't-"

I tuned out the rest of his speech - Not wanting to hear how wrong I was, and how bad my judgement was. I felt my mind turn over, as I saw red before my eyes. I was angry - Angrier than I had ever been before.

"Why are you never happy for me?!" I snapped in his direction suddenly, cutting him off. He froze, looking surprised. I sat up, and stood up, so I was facing him head-on. "Why?!" I questioned once more.

Intaking a shaking breath in I crossed my arms tightly, while narrowing my eyes at my so-called best friend.

He looked at me calmly, belying the shock in his eyes at my frustrated outburst. I stepped toward him, fingers pushing on his chest harshly. He frowned, biting his lower lip as he took a step back.

I was angry - so, so angry.

"I- I don't-" My glare shut him up, and my lip curled into a snarl.

...But, as the anger bubbled inside me, and I wanted nothing more to hurt him at that moment, I couldn't help but let my heart soften. Pushing my hands on his chest, I felt the anger disspasitate, and I was left with an empty feeling. My hands curled into shaking fists as they rested on his chest and I felt him tense up. He relax when I didn't hit him. My eyes were burning with with the after-fury - Why, couldn't just once could he say, 'That's great, Miley!' or something to that effect?!

Everytime I got together with somebody, and break up, he always said, 'You could have done better."

EVERYTIME! It didn't matter who it was.

He was so, so.. infuriating! I tilted my head back slightly, allowing my blue eyes to glare into his. I hoped my eyes were cold. His soft, warm, brown eyes never changed, staring back into mine.

My heart started pouding furiously, at a thousand miles an hour.

I didn't know why, he had this effect on me everytime.

Everytime his hand would slip over mine accidentally, every time I would look at him and he would be looking right at me.

"Because... Miley, you could do so much better." Suddenly as the fire behind my eyes died down, I heard his voice, softly speaking, a hurt, broken edge to it. "I- I just wish you would be happy Miley- And all these things," he murmured, showing me a picture of Nick. "They aren't helping."

He gathered my hands up into his own, and a peculiar, and familiar tingle ran through me.

He had no right to sound hurt and broken.

I was the one under media fire.

I was the one being criticized.

I was the one.. who was suffering. A tear rolled down my cheek, as I vigorously wrenched my hands away to wipe my face, his hands stopped me. His thumb brushing over my cheek bone, slowly and carefully. "Shh, don't cry, Miles..." He murmured. His voice was clipped, and I looked up to see him crying as well. I was confused - I didn't understand all this - The emotions, the anger - the proximity.. And yet- I knew that.. I enjoyed it..

His hand was pleasurably stroking my cheek, and I enjoyed it so much - But I couldn't handle anymore emotions at the present.

"Miles," he murmured once more.

"I don't understand," I murmured back, not bothering to wipe away the tears.

He did that for me.

"You don't have to."

"I- Just- Don't understand, Mitch- I thought he was the guy," I mumbled, leaning into his shoulder, rubbing my nose against his neck.

"Miley- Look - I wish.. I wish so badly, that you could get over him.. But- I just.."

I was even more confused.

"What?" Mitchel was always to go-to guy - But he was always one to tell me to take my time to get over a guy.

"I'm sick.. And tired.." He breathed, looking at the ground. "Of seeing your heart get broken over and over..."

My breath stuck in my throat - My body tingled, from my head to my toes - And my heart suddenly yearned.. Yearned to hug him, and to make whatever unexplainable hurt he had.. Make it go away.

My eyes still were glued to the floor, studying the pattern of the hard wood underneath my feet.

Boring, but I couldn't meet his steady gaze. My eyes slowly drifted past him to the picture of Nick sitting on my dresser. I felt like my heart was breaking all over again, leaning into him for more support I burried my head into his chest.

I thought Nick was perfect. I thought he was the guy, I looked past his flaws; and honestly, he was perfect. I was almost certain things were going to work out. But then, things never do for me. My heart was throbbing in sorrow at the thought of his soft smile, his brown eyes would watch me.

I realized.. I had wasted my emotion, my 'I love you's on him.. Because.. When she said, 'I love you, Miley' I thought he meant it. Evidently, he didn't.

Mitchel seemed to realize my attention was elsewhere, and his fingers found my chin, tilting my head back to his. "Miley, look at me," He spoke calmly, showing no signs of breaking. I slowly, and nervously met his gaze. His chocolate, brown eyes were still soft, and forgiving. Anger was still burning inside me, but it seemed to subside every time his eyes met mine. He stepped closer to me, I felt like melting as his body pressed against mine lightly. "Tell me - Again, why you did this?"

I looked at him questioningly - I was confused - Did what?

My question was answered and I shivered slightly as his hand brushed up against my arm and ran his fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, he really didn't like how I dyed my hair black. I'm assuming that was a reason why he was here.

Taking a shuttering breath in, I tried to pick myself up so I could talk straight without bursting into tears.

"H-he said he liked my hair the best when it was light.. So.. I dyed it black. I want every trace of him gone," I whimpered, letting my dark tresses fall in front of my face. "I want every freakin' trace of him gone. I don't want him to like me anymore, I don't want to appeal to him anymore." My gaze faltered, as I spoke once more. "I don't want to be pretty...," I stuttered on, biting my lower lip my blue eyes danced away from his gaze back to the floor. Staring at his socks- he had a purple sock on one foot and a blue one on the other. I almost smiled - seeing my two favorite colors glare at me.

Typical Mitchel.

I was not going to cry, I had to keep telling myself this. But - really I wasn't convincing myself this time around. I felt the salty tears slowly fall down my cheeks. I felt his soft hand slip under my chin, lifting it up once more so he could look me in the eyes.

He wiped away my tears again, I shivered and bit my lower lip trying to stop a sob from escaping my body. I felt his strong arms embrace me, my heart started pounding wildly in my chest. I couldn't contain the rush of emotions flooding through me.

"It'll be okay, Miles," he whispered, somewhere above my left ear.

My heart exploded - Finally destroyed into tiny shreds - It wasn't going to be okay - And he of all people should have known that.

My hands clenched into a fist as I hit him in the chest as hard as I could, I felt him wince, but his arms never left the embrace he had me in. I burst out sobbing, burying my head into his chest, rubbing my hand gently over where I had hit him. He tried his hardest to sooth me, but I sobbed harder. My fingers grabbed the fabric on his shirt and gripped it tightly.

He stood there, and listened to me cry for a couple minutes, just holding me.

"Miley, you always are going to look pretty. No matter what color your hair is," He whispered, looking down at me.

That sentence shocked me.

"Wh-what!?"

"You're always gonna be pretty, no matter what. It's because you're beautiful on the inside."

I chuckled lightly - He knew how to make me blush and feel better. What a guy.

"Where'd that come from, Mitch?"

He frowned, looking slightly disappointed.

I cocked my head to one side, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

He was suddenly across the room, his warm embrace gone - and he had his head in his hands as he paced around.

"Are you really that blind, Miley?!"

I gaped at him, not able to formulate anything. He continued, like I knew he would.

"Do you really not read anything - Not see anything?! Are you really that... Dense?!" He looked up, a frustrated, constricted look on his features.

"Wha-What are you talking about?" I rasped, feeling like I had been without water for many hours.

"MILEY! I've basically spilled all my emotions out to you - Magazine interviews - Red carpet interviews - My blogs - The videos I do you for your Miley World whatever - Has it ever occured to you; That I did all those for you?!"

My ability to breathe left me as my mind spun.

So this is what a stroke felt like.

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AN: Review, please!