'What the hell is the matter with me? Oh, you have some nerve!' I pushed him with both my arms, pushed him further away from me so that I wouldn't be so close to his lips, so close to his blue eyes, accusing and condemning. 'After everything you did- to me, to us! You dare,' I took a step closer to him, forcing him to walk backwards towards the kitchen counter, 'You dare bring Christy and all the other Christies home, parading them right in front of me. Not once, did you think of me, not once did you care.' My voice was still low, coming out in a hiss, full of anger and spite. I never had the chance to do that when we broke up. Well, now I did. 'In one night, you almost got us killed- I saw you beaten bloody, Alec! In one night, you managed to shatter my heart in a million little pieces and not once did you care! About what I lost, what I had to go through, seeing you..with them. With each one of them. You didn't miss any chance to show off, to touch them, to bring them home, to let me hear you...with them.' I pressed closer against him, an accusing extended finger pointing to his face. 'I was there for all of it. And through these months, you never wondered what it felt like for me. You were never there for me. It's as if...' My voice caught, a lump in my throat. I looked away, stepping backwards and turned my back to him, trying to calm down my breathing. 'As if I was just one more of your flicks. Which I had accepted. I should have accepted it. But it's like you enjoy hurting me like this, over and over and over again.' My eyes hardened and my voice was dangerously low. 'In that sense,' I said flatly, 'You're no better than Gareth.'

For a moment, I didn't speak. I couldn't. Not with those bitter words echoing inside my head. No better than Gareth. "You're delusional." I said finally, shaking my head. "You're the one who broke up with me, that night you saw me 'beaten bloody'. That night you told me what we had was fun to you, but it had to end because you didn't want to deal with me." I remember the way she looked at me as she said that, with shining eyes and a smile full of spite. The way I fell to my knees and she pulled away as if touching me were unsavory. "You're the one who made us strangers. You're the one who locked yourself in your room everyday with your damned books, who ignored my greetings, who acted as if I didn't exist. I tried, Thalia." My voice raised sharply at that. "I tried, and it was you who didn't give a single fuck. So why shouldn't I have brought my friends home? Why?"

'Because I did all of it for you! For you, you ungrateful bastard, you,' I couldn't control my rage any longer. I stepped closer to him and raised my voice, lifting my arms to my sides, 'To protect you, to push you away! How do you think it felt? You almost died, Alec, because of me! And you didn't stop to question it once,' My fingers curled into tight fists, knuckles paled and tense, 'It was all I had to cope with it, with what I did! I isolated myself from everyone, I was completely and utterly alone, asking myself, constantly, why you...' I hit him, then. Not a collected, controlled blow. No, I didn't care about stance or position or any of it. I struck him on his chest with either hand, repeatedly, again and again, 'Why you hated me so much. And how could I have been such a fucking fool to believe it could have been any different.'
There were tears in my eyes now, but I held them back stubbornly, my nails digging into the skin of my palms. No. I would not give him this pleasure, wouldn't let him see. 'You never cared about me. Looking back at it,' another blow, higher, reaching for his collarbone, but I could feel exhaustion washing over my limbs, 'I wish it had never happened. That we had never happened.'

I took in each blow, barely feeling them, her words pounding into me harder. "You stupid, stupid girl." I said through gritted teeth. "You're so pathetically mistaken." I grabbed her wrists, suddenly lax, and pushed her back from me. "You nearly died that night, because of what I did. And hours later, you broke up with me, comparing me to your last abusive boyfriend." I flung her arms away and turned around, weary from looking at the tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. "So, no. I didn't question it. In case it was true. In case fighting for us was what Kyle would do. Which he did do." A twisted smile contorted my face. "From then on, I had the sweetest girls over, the kindest, the ones who wouldn't anger me, just in fucking case they saw in me what you saw in me. I didn't hate you, I hated me." I slammed my hand into the wall. The collision stung blissfully, spreading from my fingers to my palm, all the way down my arm. I looked at them, pain making sense for once. "I wish I could've hated you. But I couldn't."

All at once, my judgement seemed to clear up once more, the curtain that had fallen in my mind vanishing. There was something in his voice, a twisted calamity that warned of nothing auspicious. He turned away from me and I followed immediately after, a lump in my throat, gritty and raspy like sandpaper. 'Stop,' I muttered in the lowest voice, barely audible even to myself. 'Stop,' I repeated louder, grasping at his arm, sliding myself between him and the wall, my fingers clasped around his fist. His knuckles were reddened and there were a couple scratches on his fingers. I felt exhausted. 'Stop,' I said a third time, not entirely sure what I was talking about.
I let the silence reign in the otherwise empty room, words unspoken thudding in my head. When I did open my mouth to speak, my voice did not sound like my own. 'I wish you did. It's easier to push you away if I am convinced that you do.' I let go of him and let my back slouch against the wall, looking down at my feet, my head feeling too heavy on my shoulders. The loud ringing if a headache. Great. A smile curled up the corners of my lips, slowly, a chuckle, harsh, ripped out from my throat. 'And now what?'

And now what?
I allowed myself to imagine convincing her I hated her. A smirk in the face of her pain. A kiss on the lips of Christy. Leaving her alone right now. They would all do it. An easy thing to do, a terrible thing to live with.
Hardly breathing, I brought my numb hand up to cup her face, a thing I imagined doing a hundred times in the last week alone. I brushed my thumb across her cheekbone, revelling in her soft skin, choosing not to remember what had stopped me before. When she did not move, neither to reject nor accept my touch, I closed the distance between us. I slid the fingers of my other hand around her neck, threading them into the locks of her hair. In the silence of the room, I could hear the ticking of the kitchen clock, a quiet reminder life continued while we were frozen in our own world.
Hesitantly, I pulled her face up towards mine. Her eyes were closed. In this proximity, I could see the purple pools under her eyes that no powder could completely conceal. Strangely enough, that bruised, delicate skin made her seem more beautiful. I pressed my lips against her forehead. "I don't want to pretend to hate you anymore."

My breath caught. For the first time in months, he was touching me, that soft, gentle touch that has always made me wonder. He tilted my face upwards, but I would not look at him. Not yet. His lips were cool against my skin, and I found myself pushing my body further against his, an arm shaking, wrapping around his waist. If I let it go on, we would be back where we started. If I let him...just for a bit longer, I could have him back. In his touch, I could feel the hesitation, the doubt, even the fear of rejection. His voice echoed all around me.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. And I was taken aback. The storm in his own, raging, and I was incapable to decipher what it meant. 'And what will we do, then?' I whispered, not trusting myself to speak louder, 'Play the happy, normal family that we aren't? This is killing me, Alec, killing me.'
I wrenched myself free and looked away again, my arms crossed, hands clutched tightly below my shoulders, trying to stabilise the shaking. I took a deep breath. 'I didn't plan to tell you. I'm moving out. Far away. If I get into Medicine. I can't stand this any longer.'

I sagged back as she ripped herself from my arms. I couldn't watch her walk away, so I leant my head back, fixating my vacant gaze on the fan above. It turned lazily, no breeze caught by its blades. I closed my eyes to block it out as well. She admitted it to me, she admitted she felt the same as I did all these past months. She had lied to me that night, breaking my heart in the process, but I could understand why. It was twisted, and wrong, but I could. Yet she couldn't expect that now, now that I knew the truth, that I'd let her leave me again.
College.
"We still have time." I told the fan. "Before that happens. We can still make it better before then." I opened my eyes and looked back down at her. Her arms were wrapped around herself, as if she were making sure she wouldn't fall to pieces. She looked so very small. "You can't expect me to give up. And I can't let you give up." I felt a laugh bubble up my throat at how clichéd my words were, but forced it down. Now was not the time to laugh.

I sagged back as she ripped herself from my arms. I couldn't watch her walk away, so I leant my head back, fixating my vacant gaze on the fan above. It turned lazily, no breeze caught by its blades. I closed my eyes to block it out as well. She admitted it to me, she admitted she felt the same as I did all these past months. She had lied to me that night, breaking my heart in the process, but I could understand why. It was twisted, and wrong, but I could. Yet she couldn't expect that now, now that I knew the truth, that I'd let her leave me again.
College.
"We still have time." I told the fan. "Before that happens. We can still make it better before then." I opened my eyes and looked back down at her. Her arms were wrapped around herself, as if she were making sure she didn't fall to pieces. She looked so very small. "You can't expect me to give up. And I can't let you give up."