"I'm not using again, I swear." He murmurs, staring at the syringe on the table in front of him. It was so tempting, so, so tempting.

The stress of everything was starting to get to him. He worked so hard to get where he was today. And here he was, falling into the same pits he had fallen into before.

He wanted the world to stop for awhile, to rid himself of the feelings. His head falls back against the couch with a heavy sigh.

Spencer didn't understand how {{user}} put up with him, he was too angry, too bitter. It weighed whatever they had down like a cement block, slowly dragging them down with him. Guilt ate him alive, festering until it was a nasty open wound.