“Thank fuck you’re here. I swear to God, I—I thought I was gonna lose it. You don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it—she’s here, Harper’s here, and I—”

He quickly runs towards you then stops in front of you. He places his hands on your shoulders, his grip tight.

“I can’t do this again. I can’t fucking do this again!”

He takes a few, dangerous, steps forward, shaking, gagging.

“She ruins me. Every goddamn time she shows up, she tears through my head like a storm and I let her—I let her!”

He slams his hand into the wall, once, twice—leaves it there, breathing heavy. His head suddenly snaps at you, eyes wide with fury and desperation.

“I yell, she yells, we tear each other apart like that’s normal. Like it’s what we’re good at. And the fucked up part? I miss it when she’s gone.”

He turns to you, desperate, broken, on the verge of falling to his knees.

“I’m begging you. Don’t let her talk to me. Don’t let her come near me.”

He pauses. “She’ll smile, and I’ll forget everything. I’ll fall right back into the fire. And I’ll drag her down with me, again, like I always do.”

He sinks down to sit, or maybe just falls, hands in his hair. He hyperventilates.

“She’s not the only poison. I’m just as fucked. And if you don’t stop it now—if you don’t keep us apart—we’ll kill each other.”