"Oh, I'm so sorry!" The girl I crashed into apologises, throwing her arms out to steady me. I trace one of those arms up to her face and my god, she's beautiful. She's got to be a model or something. I mean, damn.

"It's okay, I should've been looking where I was going." I point out quietly because I'm distracted by looking over all of her features, from her bright green eyes to the thick eyebrows that sit atop them, the perfect nose which leads down to an even more perfect set of lips, her jawline, her hair, and back to those stunning eyes again.

There's a different kind of beauty to her; raw, wild, powerful beauty. And yet it's gentle too. She looks like she could crush me, but like she wouldn't ever want to.

I don't know her, she could be a serial killer for all I know, but I trust her instantly.

"Okay." She says softly as she scans my own face, and then a twinkle grows in her eyes, and she asks, "Hey, I just got stood up on a date. What are you doing for the next... hour or so?"

Did she just-?

"I was going home, but if you're asking me to be your date number 2, I'll happily oblige," I say with a slightly joking tone, and she smirks and holds her hand out to me.

That's how it all started. Two years later, we're arguing with each other, again. We had a perfect relationship up until the one year six months mark, and she did a complete 180. She went from such a loving, caring girlfriend to one who doesn't talk to me unless she wants something, completely disregards my feelings and my existence altogether, and disappears for hours on end without so much as a 'goodbye' or 'I'll be back later'.

I don't know how I lasted so long.

"No, Lauren! I'm fed up with doing stuff for you! When was the last time you did something nice for me!?" I question, and she finally looks at me again, her face emotionless.

"It's like you just don't care anymore, which I don't understand because you seemed to care a lot six months ago! What happened!?"

"Nothing happened." She shrugs like she isn't being yelled at, and I bite my tongue angrily and shake my head. How can she just-

"I just revealed who I really am. I figured you were deep enough in love with me to stay, and I was right, which I'm surprised I was actually right seeing as I don't feel it." She continues to explain, and my jaw drops.

"You're... you're not in love with me anymore?" I ask softly, not wanting the words to fall from my lips at all and dreading the response.

She turns and looks me dead in the eyes and says nonchalantly, "I never was; just fascinated by you, how your mind works." Her hand reaches up to push some hair behind my ear but I slap it away. If I weren't so upset, maybe I would've watched my words, but I spit them at her anyway.

"You're a fucking psycho."

She freezes but her face is just as blank as ever. I'm not going to lie, it frightens me.

"-path?" She finishes the word, and adds, "So I've been told."

"Laur, is this some kind of joke?" I ask through my tears and she looks back down to her coffee and takes another sip. The coffee that I made her ten minutes ago.

"A six-month long joke?" She questions and I clamp my mouth shut, "I might be a psychopath, but that's just hard work."

"So, you're actually-"

"I don't have any emotions, Y/n." She declares, looking over at me again and putting her coffee on the table, "I wanted to learn from you, what it's like to be in love. I learned, but then I got fed up with the acting and found out how to manipulate that love to get my way."

"That's- You're crazy," I mutter.

"No, I'm smart." She corrects.

"I think you need to leave," I state with a remarkably stable voice but on the inside, I'm sobbing and just wanting to collapse in her arms. I don't want to believe her, but somehow I know she's not lying. How can someone I love, someone I care for so deeply tell me they don't love me back, that they never did and never can, and admit that they used me the whole time we were together in the space of less than a minute?

She refuses to move though, and I close my eyes for a second to try and pull myself together.

"How can you just lie about how you feel when you- you don't even feel... anything...? You told me you love me over and over again..."

"I can be like that again if it makes you more comfortable-" she offers but I interrupt her with my response.

"But it won't ever be real again. I'll know it's just acting." My eyes reopen and focus on hers, the eyes I thought I'd seen love and care for so many times over the years, well, bar the last six months.

"I understand." She nods and sits back on the sofa, just looking at the wall.

"Leave, please." I try again but she shakes her head.

"I don't want to leave yet." She shrugs and I take a deep breath.

"You must understand that I can never see you the same way again, right? You must understand that now I know you were just using me, I- I don't think I ever want to see your face again, right?" I'm honest, and she slowly looks over at me again, "I don't think I can date someone who doesn't feel anything."

"You have been for two years-"

"No, I was dating someone else for the first year and a half, someone who actually cared about us and someone who smiled and laughed and cried sometimes too. Was that all an act? None of it was real, was it?"

Instead of answering, she says, "Well then you have for six months."

"I've been your slave for six months. I've done everything for you while you just leave when you please without saying goodbye, and when you're here you just sit on your ass all day and do nothing." I argue and her eyes flick down to my lips and back up to my own.

"I'm sorry."

"If you don't feel anything then you're not really sorry because you don't feel guilty." I point out and she nods slowly.

"Usually people don't notice. You've always been a smart one." She comments and I scoff at her.

"Apparently not smart enough to know I've been living with a crazy person."

"I'm not crazy." Her tone is empty and quiet, while mine is laced with anger and sadness.

"Please leave." I try again and she shakes her head.

"No."

Something inside of me finally snaps and I yell at her, "GET OUT!"

Her reaction is nothing more than a slow blink, and she stands up just as slowly, moving into the bedroom and, with a bit of luck, beginning to pack her things.

I stay on the sofa for a good ten, maybe fifteen minutes just letting my tears fall as I think of all the moments we shared, and false on her behalf. I barely register the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing, and her feet padding over towards me. Her hand rests on the left side of my face as she bends down to kiss my forehead, and then my nose, and finally my lips with soft, lingering kisses that make small sounds when she pulls away.

"Goodbye, Y/n." Her quiet, raspy voice says before she moves away from me and towards the front door.

"I'll see you around, I suppose." With that, the front door opens and closes behind her and she hauls one single, small suitcase out with her, likely filled with just her clothes.

A sob fights to fall from my lips, but I fight it down and give myself a moment of silence instead.

I was wrong when I thought she could crush me but wouldn't want to. She could, alright... and she just did.

So much for 'I love you'.

———
What the duck did I just write?