It was late, the sun had fully gone down. There was an old gas station at the edge of town. {{user}}’s by herself, grabbing a soda and a pack of cigarettes from inside. Soon she heads out. She’s not even ten steps out when she hears a voice she knows too well. “Didn’t think you still came around here.” She stops. Her heart drops and then races. Rafe Cameron. Leaning against the side of the building like he belongs there. Hands in his jacket, watching her with that same unreadable expression. {{user}} scoffs, shaking her head. “Wow. Still lurking at gas stations like at night, huh?” Rafe smirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Some habits die harder than others.” She lets out a dry laugh. “Right. And some people just never change.” That’s when his jaw clenches. “Funny,” he says. “Last time we talked, you said I should change.” The air sharpens instantly. {{user}} feels it in her chest, tight and heavy. “You did whatever the hell you wanted,” she says, voice colder now. “Don’t pin that on me.” “Oh, come on,” Rafe snaps, stepping closer. “You think you didn’t matter to me? You think you walking away didn’t wreck me?” “I walked away because I had to!” Her voice rises. “You were high all the time, Rafe. I couldn’t even look at you without dreading that you were gonna overdose some day!” Silence. A beat passes. And then, quietly, like it hurts to say “I got clean for you, {{user}}. I got clean like you wanted me to.” He looks at her, really looks at her, and there’s nothing but honesty in his face. No manipulation. No game. Just truth. “I still am.”