Ezra wakes up to the sound of someone violently banging on his door. He blinks to reorient himself, groaning as he sees the half full bottle of scotch in his hand and feels the pounding headache sneaking up on him. He checks his phone and sighs out of frustration when he sees that it's barely three in the morning.

"Fuck," he mumbles. "I'm coming!" he yells, letting out a sigh of relief when the banging stops.

He puts the bottle down on the floor, cursing to himself again as he realizes he spilled some on his shirt. He tugs the shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor before opening the door.

"What—" Ezra starts, then he catches sight of her short, wavy brown hair. "Aria...?"

She looks up at him, biting her lip to stop it from quivering. "I can't do this," she says with a shaky voice.

He furrows his brow as she takes a step closer. "Aria..."

She's so close he can feel her breath. All he wants to do is reach out, wrap his arms around her waist, and bury his face in the curve of her neck, trying to remember what it felt like when she called his touch "home". He knows it's because he's still a bit drunk, but she keeps inching closer and closer, and he doesn't want her to stop.

Aria rises on her toes so that her mouth is barely brushing against his. "I can't..." she says again, softer, before pressing her lips to his.

Ezra closes his eyes—opening them again shortly to make sure that he isn't imagining this—and feels himself give in. He's been waiting for this moment for far too long to resist her now. He knows earlier was a mistake, and he knows this probably is too, but he also knows that he hasn't felt his headache since he opened the door.

"I need you," she whispers, sending shivers down his spine. "I can't pretend that I don't think of you, always."

Ezra leans down to kiss her neck, following a path to her collarbone. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since the day we met," he breathes out against her skin.

Aria lets out a breathy laugh and pulls his face back up to hers, giving her some time to re-memorize the blue color of his eyes that she'd somehow managed to forget. Ezra realizes that he's been holding his breath, but even then he can't seem to relax. The way she's staring now reminds him of the way she used to look at him all those years ago, and it's making every muscle in his body freeze—as if moving would make her look away and he'd never get to know what it felt like to be loved by Aria Montgomery again. Finally, after what feels to Ezra like eternity, she glances down, reclaiming his mouth with her own. She pushes him towards the bed, smiling against his lips in a way that makes him believe that whatever they're doing has to be right. As the back of his head hits the pillow and their fingers interlock, he knows out of all the things in his life he's only ever been sure of one—her.

. . .

"I'm a horrible person," Aria says before taking a long swig of scotch.

"Correction," Ezra states. "We're horrible people."

"Thanks," she says dryly, glaring at him as she raises the bottle to her lips.

"What? You don't need it sugarcoated."

Aria drops her eyes and smiles sadly. "I guess I was hoping this isn't as bad as I think it is. But it's bad, Ezra. This is really bad."

"Aria, if you want we can forget this. You can go back to Dylan and just forget I was ever back in Rosewood," he offers, despite every cell in his body wanting nothing more than to stay with her forever. "Even if you tell Dylan what happened, you'd make it through this... We always did."

She shakes her head, "It's different. It's always different with you."

"That doesn't mean you can't—"

"You don't get it!" she snaps. "I can't forget, okay? This is my fault. I'm the one in a relationship. I'm the one who showed up at your door in the middle of the night. I can't ignore that being with you feels like all I've ever wanted," she finishes, her eyes glassy.

Ezra blinks a few times, trying to figure out if she's really saying what he thinks she is. As much as he wants to blame the scotch, he's always been selfish when it comes to Aria. If she can't stay away from him then there's no chance in hell that he'd be able to stay away from her.

"Then we say fuck it."

Aria sniffles and looks at him, dazed. "What?"

"Fuck it," Ezra repeats, shrugging. He grabs the bottle from Aria and takes a pull. "You've already cheated. You might as well be happy now." He sets the bottle on the nightstand and reaches out to brush her hair behind her ear. "We could be happy, Aria," he says softly—hopefully. "We could try."

"Ezra—" she begins, leaning into his touch.

"I know it's crazy, I just... This is real, Aria. We can keep denying it but we both know it's true. I can't lose you again, and if that means having to share you..."

"I have to go," Aria whispers.

Ezra can feel his heart beating faster. Was it something he said? Did she realize this was a mistake? Is she ever coming back?

"Aria, don't..." he pleads.

She crawls over him and sits on the edge of the bed, her bare back facing him. She turns her head over her shoulder, giving him a soft smile.

"I have to go home, Ezra," she clarifies.

He watches as Aria gets up and puts on her clothes. When she finishes she takes one last pull from the bottle before placing it back on the table. He grabs her hand lightly as she starts to walk away.

"Please... I need to know I'll see you again."

He pulls her to the side of the bed so she's standing in front of him. He sighs and leans his forehead against her stomach.

"I didn't think it was possible after all this time but being with you again, hearing your voice, it all comes rushing back... I—I love you, Aria. I'm still hopelessly in love with you."

He lifts his head up to meet her eyes. She blinks and fresh tears run down her cheeks, curving down the slope of her jaw and falling onto the floor. She hates how weak Ezra makes her.

"I wish I wasn't," she whispers back, cradling his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

Ezra watches silently as she turns and leaves his apartment, suddenly wondering once more if the entire thing had been a twisted dream.

. . .

Aria carefully closes the front door before silently walking up the stairs. She enters her room, smiling as she sees Dylan asleep, snoring softly. She climbs into bed, trying her best to be quiet so she won't wake him, holding her breath when she hears Dylan mumble something and turn over.

"Aria?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Where'd you go?" he asks, half-asleep. He has a goofy, tired smile on his face at the sight of her and that, combined with what she's done, is enough to make her feel sick.

"Water," she says, a little too quickly—as if she had been planning it.

Aria can tell he doesn't know whether or not to believe her. The scent of scotch is too strong now to be from her encounter after the brew, but Dylan is too tired to think about it. He's always trusted her, which is one of the reasons she fell for him, and it's why she knows she doesn't deserve him. Aria didn't grow up on trust; she grew up on lies, secrets, and chaos. They were raised as two very different people, and maybe that's why Aria was so drawn to him—someone so drama-free and honest. He was everything she had ever hoped to be. She thought that maybe someone like him could help her be better—help her heal—but somewhere along the way she ended up dragging him into her mess and by that point it was too late. It's always too late. They had already fallen for each other by the time Aria realized she could never be who Dylan wanted her to be, but the love they share is strong enough to get past that. At least it used to be. She used to believe that no one would ever be able to get between her and Dylan, but then again, she used to believe in a lot of things. She used to believe that she would never see Ezra Fitz again.

Dylan falls asleep again quickly, leaving Aria alone with her thoughts. She knows she can't keep this up. At some point she's going to have to make a choice, one that will inevitably hurt someone she loves. The question is who. Or maybe the bigger question is if she'd be able to live with herself if she chose Dylan. Could she really spend the rest of her life knowing that she had cheated on him? Actually cheated on him. Aria knows that the alternative isn't really any better—cheating and then leaving him for someone else. Regardless, Aria forces herself to come to terms with the harsh reality of her situation. As much as she's tried to rationalize it—that love is always messy, that someone always gets hurt—she can't pretend that she won't be the one to deliver the final twist of the knife.

She knows there are other ways. She could end things with Dylan now and avoid more lies. She could stop cheating. She knows there are ways to make this right—at least, as right as they can be—but she can't. Maybe she's just scared, or maybe she's just selfish, but Aria can't let Ezra or Dylan go until she knows for sure. Too many people in her life have betrayed her. She knows it isn't fair, but she also knows that in the list of words used to describe her life, "fair" has never been one of them. Maybe it was never meant to be. Maybe people like her aren't supposed to fall in love.