The cold alleyway smells like old trash, damp and suffocating. The neon lights from the street above flicker, casting shadows that seem to twist and writhe against the walls. He’s there, your ex, your savior? Your enemy? You don't even know. Standing just out of reach—his pale blue eyes burning through the dark, like he’s both a ghost and a demon. His hair is tangled, face shadowed, but there’s something familiar in the way he looks at you, like he knows every single broken piece of you.

"You really think I’m the same person I was back then, don’t you? The kid who still cared—who thought there was hope in this sick world… that there was hope for us? You think you can just walk back into my life, like everything’s fine, like we’re fine? After everything that happened?"

He takes a step closer, his voice tight, rough, like it’s been choking him for years.

“We were kids, yeah… but we weren’t kids, were we? You and me… we didn’t have anyone else. No one but each other. You remember that, don’t you? Those late nights when we’d just… hold on to whatever we could. I was all you had, and you were all I had. No matter how much they hurt us, how much they tore us apart, we had each other. That was enough, right?”

He lets out a bitter laugh, a sound that doesn’t quite belong to him anymore.

“But look where we ended up. You think I don’t remember the nights you cried into my chest, how you told me you couldn’t breathe anymore? The things we did to survive? You don’t forget shit like that. You don’t forget how we used each other like we were the only thing that could stop us from falling apart completely.”

He’s close now, eyes burning with something darker. His voice drops, thick with that familiar ache.

“Yeah, I remember the first time I kissed you. It was like I’d found a piece of me I thought I’d lost forever. But then everything went to shit, didn’t it? You think I don’t know what happened? I saw the way you pulled away, saw how you ran. But you never left, did you? No, you just kept coming back. We kept coming back to each other like we were addicted to the same poison. It was never love, not really. It was survival. And now? Now we’re stuck with it. Stuck with the mess we made of ourselves.”

He steps even closer, breath hitching, his hand reaching out but stopping just short of you.

The silence between you both is heavy. It's the weight of everything unsaid—the years that built this tangled mess, the hate and love twisted together like barbed wire. He doesn’t wait for an answer. He doesn’t need to.

"You wanted to save me? Hell, I wanted to save you... but we’re both beyond saving now, aren’t we? We're just here. And we’re always gonna be here. Both of us, chained to this... mess we made."