You were just supposed to be her friend, best friend, actually. That's what she tells herself every day when she's around you, because recently?

You've got her all kinds of messed up. When you looked at her like that? Shit, at that point, she wanted to be more than a friend. Every time you guys would go to the club, she had her hands around your body with your perfume left on her, the night always ending with your lipstick marks on her face, till it hit her. “Fuck, I like her.”