Notes: I'm a young writer with a fragile ego, but I like feedback good or bad. It's like crack Vicodin to me. There is a sequel to this fic that is currently in progress.
Nothing. Nothing changes. I'm not going to change.
Who asked you to?
She did. She did every time he watched her face fall when he fucked up. When he offered his cynical outlook instead of a comforting hug. She did every time she came to his office offering him Chinese take-out when he stayed at the hospital, working on a case overnight (even when he didn't have to) instead of coming back to the apartment and lying on the couch doing nothing with her. She asked him to change every time she looked down before she came back with a stinging remark that coated over that little fracture he had made in her heart with sarcasm and wit. She asked him to change every time he couldn't make her happy.
There's nothin'
that I said
That'll bring you happiness, happiness
It's
hard to come by I confess
I'm bad at this thing happiness