You and Tommy sat on the hood of an abandoned car at the edge of a cliff, the sky dimming around you as the sun set. You had loved each other before, but it flickered and fizzed out after only a few months, not by your accord. The wind carried the scent of salt and earth, but the air felt thick with unspoken words. Tommy, always pulling away, always hiding behind his jokes, had been like this for as long as you’d known him. But tonight, something was different. The space between you felt heavier.

“I don’t... I don’t know why you keep coming back, y’know?” Tommy’s voice was quieter than usual, the words slipping out with a shaky hesitation that made your chest tighten. “I’m not like... I’m not what you think I am. I can’t give you what you want.” His eyes were fixed on the horizon, his hands fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve, like he was trying to anchor himself to something, anything.

You leaned closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “Tommy, I just want you. I’m not asking for some... perfect version of you. I just want you. Whatever that is.” You reached out, gently resting your hand on his, but he pulled away quickly, the motion abrupt, like your touch had burned him. His eyes flashed with something—fear, maybe. Or anger. It was hard to tell.

He flinched, his body jerking away from your touch. His voice was tight, filled with something darker now. “You don’t get it,” he snapped, his gaze hardening. “I’m not good enough for you. Not like this. I can’t be that person, not for you.”

You froze, feeling the weight of his words, the fear in his eyes. “Tommy, you don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going anywhere.”

He stood abruptly, anger seeping through the cracks in his carefully built walls. “You don’t get it. You can’t. I’m not safe. I’m not... enough.” His voice was sharp now, desperate. “I can’t do this.”

Before you could speak, he slid off the car's roof and turned, his steps deliberate and as fast as he could muster with a mild limp from an injury he sustained a few days ago. “I’m done.”