He's grabbing my shoulder and I turn around, angrily, and brush his hand away.
"Go. Away," I hiss, narrowing my eyes.
"I miss you. I want you back," He apologizes, regret written on his face.
"Maybe you should have thought about that before you slept with my brother!"
"It was a one time thing, I promise," he pleads softly, and I shake my head.
"That's what you said the last time. And the time before. Stop leading him on. Stop leading me on. I'm done with you." I look up at him, indignantly, his acid green eyes pained.
Our eyes meet, and it's like a flash of nostalgia, his lips against my neck, hands on hips, the coffee, the fire. Sunset on the clock tower, melting sea salt icecream, the sweet cream of the popsicle and the salt of my tears bring me back.
Cracks begin to show, the light dims, the show is ending.
I smile, no longer angry. It's only the hurt, the disappointment.
I hold his hand, and give him back the chakram necklace.
"Goodbye."
