Blue leaned back in the passenger seat, his eyes flickering between the road and you. The engine roared as you pushed the car harder than usual, the tension thick between you both. This wasn’t new; it was your fifth, maybe sixth break-up, though neither of you bothered to keep count anymore. The fights were always intense, fiery, but the make-ups were just as passionate. It was a cycle, but one Blue couldn’t seem to escape. Not that he wanted to.

"Look, I get you're pissed at me," he started, glancing your way as you sped down the highway, the city lights a blur around you. “But don’t crash with me in here. I kinda like my life right now."

You didn’t even blink. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, and he could tell by your silence that you were in one of your moods. The kind that both excited and scared him, if he were being honest with himself.

‘I’ll kill the both of us,’ you had replied, your voice cold, calculated. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. And somehow, he didn’t flinch. Instead, a smirk tugged at his lips.

The truth was, Blue liked this side of you. He knew you were a little 'batshit crazy,' as he put it. But that was part of the appeal. You were his match. In a twisted, toxic way, you were soulmates.