"So that's it, you're just going to leave?"

"I don't know!"

"Do what you want and fuck the rest of us?!" Ville was yelling now. Pacing back and forth and I could tell he was angry.

And now I was angry, too. "This is my career, Ville! This is my future, and the rest of my life! This is important!" I slapped my hand over my mouth.

He stopped pacing. "And, I'm what…? Not important?"

His eyes were cold and I'd never seen him look at me that way before. "Well there's the fucking door, Claire. You can see yourself out."

"Ville-"

"Get out."

xXxXxXx

I lay watching my toes wiggle in the bubbles of my bath, feeling disconnected from everything. But that might have been the vodka.

It had been two days since I'd seen or talked to Ville and we had broken up. I was starting to feel like I had withdrawls from an addiction.

I couldn't tell who I was more mad at- Ville, or myself.

Sure, we fought, but I was so much happier when I was with him. Everything felt more wonderful and intense. I felt more alive. So was losing him really worth my stupid pride?

I bit my lip, now worried I had made a mistake in my drunken haze that night. And I hadn't sobered up since then to be able to really tell.

I wondered if Ville was thinking about me, wherever he was. Was he thinking that he'd made a mistake, letting me go like that? Was he missing me?

Was he with another girl? That would kill me.

I sat up, having decided that I would call him. Though that, too, could have been the vodka.

I grabbed one of Ville's hoodies off my bedroom floor and flopped down on my bed, cell phone in hand.

The phone rang four times before Ville's voice answered. "Hullo? Claire?"

"Hey. What're you up to?"

I heard a thump in the background as Ville set down something heavy. "I was just working on a song. Why are you calling?"

"I, um. I dunno. I just wanted to talk to you. I might be a little drunk. I'm sorry. Would you rather I didn't?"

He paused. "It's not that. It's just, I think you made it pretty clear you didn't want anything to do with me."

"I think I might have been wrong about that."

"About what?"

"Breaking up with you."

There was another pause. "What makes you say that?"

This time I was the one that didn't know what to say. "I don't know. I just know that these past couple days without you have been miserable for me. And I know I'm so much happier when I'm with you."

"They've been miserable for me, too. I miss you, sweetheart."

I felt tears well up in my eyes. "I miss you, too." Despite my best efforts, my voice was thick when I answered. "Can you come over?"

He sighed and for a second I was worried that he would turn me down. "Let me find some pants."

XxXxX

When I woke the next morning, Ville was still asleep. He lay peacefully, and naked in the sunlight streaming in through my window.

When I stood up tears were running down my face.

Slowly I walked to my closet, dressed, and started packing.

I got the essentials. Clothes, laptop, toothbrush. I would have the college send someone over to get the rest. I picked my sketchbook up and flipped through to the last picture I drew. It was of Ville, sleeping in my bed a week ago, naked from the waist up. The sunlight in the window made his face glow. I pulled the picture out and set it down next to him on the pillow.

And then I left.

I was going home.