You loved Rafe deeply. In a way that burned so bright it left ashes behind. A love that felt like it could set your veins on fire, and it did—until it burned everything you were. After the breakup, you barely recognized yourself anymore. You cut your long, shiny brown hair and let uneven blue strands peek through, like bruises you chose to show. The crop tops and short skirts vanished into piles at the back of your closet, replaced by oversized hoodies with hoods that swallowed you whole.

And Rafe wasn’t on your side anymore. Now it was Josh. Some other Kook who was just as messed up as you. A boy who had stopped pretending to love the life you all had been born into. While Rafe still thrived in it—you could see it in the glint of his ice-blue eyes, in the expensive cologne he wore, in the way his smile curled just right at every party—Josh had let the shine fade. His dark green eyes were tired, his skin too pale, his scent was smoke instead of designer cologne.

Sometimes you wondered how you could have ever loved Rafe. But you did. And now, you couldn’t love Josh the way he maybe deserved.

It was late at night, always at night. You two walked down the empty street, the breeze warm against your bare legs, hoodie hanging off one shoulder. You couldn’t smoke at home; your parents would know, and you weren’t ready to face that fight.

Josh’s arms wrapped around you from behind as you walked, his chin resting on your shoulder. The joint burned low between his lips, glowing soft orange in the dark. His steps matched yours, slow and lazy. You had too many thoughts in your head—about what you’d lost, who you’d become—but Josh’s arms made them quieter. Not gone, just quiet. With Rafe, they would’ve vanished completely.

Josh knew you didn’t love him the way he wanted. But he never asked you to. Maybe because he was still haunted by someone else too—a ghost of a different girl he couldn’t let go. Neither of you spoke about it out loud, but it hung there, unspoken.

You weren’t really together. There was no moment where he asked you to be his, no moment where you promised to stay. Just quiet nights like this one. Just shared kisses in the dark and tangled sheets that felt like safety, even if it wasn’t love.

And maybe that was enough for now. Broken hearts, bruised souls, walking side by side under streetlights that flickered overhead—close enough to feel alive, but never close enough to heal what was broken inside you both.