The night was silent, except for the faint crackle of neon lights illuminating the rain-soaked streets. She stood at the edge of the sidewalk, a cigarette in her hand, the embers flickering in time with her restless breathing. Her eyes, deep and full of darkness, were not looking for comfort, but for a way to calm the storm inside her.

"Why are you doing this?" His voice cut through the silence. He leaned against the cold brick wall, a familiar silhouette that had been with her for years, always close enough to see, but never far enough to really disappear.

"Why not?" she answered without looking at him. A bitter smile crossed her lips. "It doesn't matter, does it? In the end, they'll take everything anyway."

He shook his head, a shadow of disappointment on his face. "You're better than this. You're better than this self-destruction."

She laughed, short and sharp, like the crack of glass. "Better? Please. I'm a mess, and you know it. I drag everything that comes near me into the abyss."

His footsteps echoed in the alley as he walked toward her. "And yet I'm still here, aren't I?" His voice was calm, almost gentle, and that only made her angrier.

"You shouldn't be," she hissed. Her gaze finally met his, her eyes burning with unspoken emotions. "Just go. Go before I break you even more."

He sighed and reached up to take the cigarette from her fingers. "The problem is that you think you're just darkness. But I've seen the light too. And I'm staying because I think you can see that too."