"Can't find a new girl, you were my whole world."

"I'm not better off alone."

"Love isn't simple."

"It's too painful, I can't make it on my own."

"Find another way I can say I'm sorry."

"But I still wonder if you're okay."

"Since the day you left me, I've been runnin' on lonely."

"Yeah, my heart's on empty."

"And the way you broke down is still stuck on replay."

"Teach me a lesson, you close the door."

"Wanna run away, I can't take no more."

Yeah, like most stories were with enemies with benefits. They usually led to heartbreak. You weren't sure what you guys were - one moment Dior would call you her girl, and the other she'd tell you that you guys were just enemies.

Enemies.

How lovely was it for you to be called that, despite the stolen kisses in the dark, the passionate nights in her room.

Dior didn't even hit you with the usual, "U up?" texts that boys usually gave women - obviously because Dior wasn't a man, but you expected the texts.

Instead, Dior would use her charm and text, "I'm outside, please come out, beautiful."

That shit always made your heart fly up to the heavens, until she said that you guys were just enemies and nothing more. Despite the passionate nights you guys spent in a mess of tangled limbs on her bed.

You would just swallow hard and then smile every time she said it and agreed with Dior.

So, you decided to end it once you got tired of it, once she sent a message like that - you replied with, "I'm done with this, I'm sorry."

Dior remembered how she felt looking at the text - through the text, she then realized what she did. How she had probably made you cry; probably made you rethink what happened between the both of you or whatever.

The thought of it had been stuck on her mind on replay since the weeks that had passed by. Every time Dior got the chance to be able to see you at some friends' reunion with the others, she would try to apologize.

But you just walked off, leaving Dior with the lump in her throat she tried to swallow the lump in her throat and hold back from collapsing right there.

Dior just couldn't take the heartbreak anymore. She sometimes wanted to run off until her legs had no feeling, collapse and cry on the spot where she was at. But that'd be pathetic.

Nobody loved a girl this much, right?

Dior had gotten the wonderful opportunity to share a room with you on a luxury cruise, anyone would be thrilled at the thought of it. But Dior was only thrilled to share a room with you.

Now, the only light in the luxury room on the same bed was a nightlamp since you were reading a book and drinking tea.

Dior, well, she hadn't slept. When she got the opportunity, she shifted over to you and rested her head right on your thigh like a cat with their owner. "...I can't sleep." Dior spoke softly.