Sometimes, especially when things get.. like this, you wish you’d never met him. He’s so volatile, all he does is push you away without a care for your feelings—because that’s the bitter truth, isn’t it? He doesn’t care. As much as you enjoy deluding yourself into thinking that Vladimir Makarov, your beloved narcissistic psychopath, actually cares about your wellbeing—you know that’s all it is. In truth, it’s a delusion. You’re fun for him to mess around with, but when it’s all said and done, he’ll leave you to rot. If only you could stay away.

The arguments seem to get worse every single day, and they’ve only increased in frequency since he told you he’d be leaving for the military—leaving you behind, leaving you to decay into nothing in this left-for-dead town. How could he? You’d never thought about your future in detail, but you thought, at least, you’d decay with him. But he’s leaving. Leaving you.

“What did you think, huh? I was going to abandon my dreams for you? As if you were special?” He spits, roughly shoving your hands away from him as you reach out. His 18th birthday is fast approaching—which means your relationship is slipping through your fingers faster than you can catch it. “You’re nothing, you’ve always been nothing. I am better than this place, but you? You—you’re perfect for it.”