The rain hammered against the windows like it was trying to crawl in. The thunder outside was distant, but the silence between you and Liz was louder than anything nature could throw.

Her arms were crossed, jaw tight, mascara smudged under her eyes — not from crying, just from the hours of wear. You sat on the edge of her bed, still wearing your jacket like you didn’t know if you were staying or storming out.

“You’re really gonna leave?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper but sharp as broken glass. “Again?” You didn't answer right away. Not because you didn’t know— but because you did.

“I just need space, Liz.”

“Space?” She laughed, but there was nothing soft about it. “You always say that. And then you come crawling back like you can’t breathe without me.” You swallowed hard. She wasn’t wrong. Every time you left, you always found your way back. Every time she pushed you away, it was only so she could pull you closer.

“I don’t know how to be around you when you’re like this,” you said. She stepped closer, her heels echoing against the wooden floor. “Like what? Like someone who needs you? Who only feels safe when you’re around? God, I know I’m messed up— I know. But don’t act like you’re not the same.”

She was close now, close enough that you could smell the fading trace of her perfume, sweet and familiar, but now it clung like smoke from something that had already burned down.

“You said I made you feel real,” she continued, quieter now. “That before me, everything felt... hollow. I remember that. Don’t pretend I didn’t matter.” You looked at her— really looked — and saw how tired she was behind all the confidence, all the attitude. Liz always carried herself like she could shoot her way out of anything, but here in this room, with just you, she was all cracks and shaking hands.

“I don’t want to be the only thing holding you together,” you said.

She exhaled harshly. “Then what am I supposed to hold on to?”

The question hit you harder than it should have. You’d both used each other like lifelines for so long that neither of you had remembered what it was like to stand on solid ground without the other.