She pushes me away and I hit the table, but it dosn't hurt. She's still shouting at me. Her eyes are full of tears and I feel small before her, those green-y blue dimonds boring into my soul. She closes her fist and punches the table behind me, but I don't even flinch. She wouldn't hurt me. Never. I know it.

She looks into my eyes. She's hurt. And I'm scared, and she knows it. She turns around and storms out the room, closing the door shut. And I stand there.

I try to calm my breathing and my heartbeat, drying the tears that rolled down my cheeks. I smooth out the creased part of my shirt, where she grabbed me, and I see my hands shivering.

I take a deep breath and walk towards the door, turning the knob slowly.

The voice of my friends comes back to my head, telling me to get away from Jade, because she will hurt me, and she will do it once and again, and I know it. But she needs me.

I can see it in her eyes. Even though she pushes me, she shouts at me and she makes me feel bad, she needs me. Jade's poisoned by her own life, her mother and her father, the people that stabbed her in the back. She's poisoned and she knows it, and that's why she hurts me, she pushes me away. Because she dosen't want me to get poisoned too.

But at the same time she try's to keep me close, because I'm the person that makes her stay alive. She's told me one and a million times; I'm the cure to her poison.

But she's scared. Scared that I will go away like people did before. And scared that I'll turn my back on her and let her suffer while the poison that runs in her veins kills her slowly.

I remember once, when I just entered Hollywood Arts. Sikowitz sent me to look for her and I found her in the Janitors Closet. She had her scissors in her hand and her shirt off, red angry marks with little drops of blood runing across her stomach while tears fell down her cheeks.

She told me time after that the pain kept her alive, away from the poison that killed her, that it hurt less than the pain of the disapointed looks of her mother or the backstabbing of her old friends.

So I walk outside, feeling the fresh wind of the night hit my cheeks, and I walk towards her, standing next to the pool. She hears me arrive, but dosen't turn to look at me and my heart hurts when I see the tears roll down her eyes.

"I'm sorry…" She whispers, so low I hardly hear her. I pull my hand out, grabbing the back of her shirt, and I pull backwards, making her turn around.

I wrap my arms around her midsection, holding her while she hides in my neck and holds on my shirt, sobbing. We stand like that for who knows how long, without moving. She whispers 'Sorry' and 'I love you' and I just answer that I know, that I love her too. Even though it hurts.

I just hope I can hold on enough time to cure her poisoned soul, even if that means poisoning myself.

Just a little angst for you people! Hope you like it.

I'm working on a NSFW for you pervs, and I'll be back soon with more one-shots. Bye!

-Muco! ;D