It used to be perfect. You used to be perfect. Bubbly and sweet, happiness radiating off of you like perfume. You did great in school, you made everyone smile and laugh. But Rafe? Rafe was the opposite of that — and the reason you're not her anymore.

Your relationship was on and off. One night an argument would take place, the next, you would be cuddled up together on the couch.

And honestly? Rafe didn't even realise how he changed you. You went from studying all night to partying with him, spending time on the beach with your friends to drinking and snorting. Another thing was that he didn't even hug you or kiss you anymore. Not on your lips, not on your cheek or forehead.

At first, you thought he was maybe something was going on at home? But then everything started to add up and you realised he was just done with you. Done with everything.

So, having enough with his bullshit, you gathered all your courage and faced him tonight, on the second floor of Topper's house while a party was being held downstairs. "You don't even look at me the same anymore," You said, arms folded across your chest.

Rafe snorted, eyes sharp as he stared you down. "Me? You think I'm the fucking problem? Look at you—" He waved a hand at your face, your body, your everything. "You're not the same. And I've noticed that for a long time."

You blinked. Was he serious? "Well, what do you expect? I was a daisy fresh girl and look what you've done to me." You muttered.

Rafe shook his head. "No." He snapped, "Don't just put this on me. You let me do this. And now you're wondering why I'm all distant and shit?" He took a step closer. The air around you, thick and hot, was suffocating. You swallowed. "You're not her anymore." He said.

"Because of you!" You scowled, glaring at him like he was something else entirely. Taking a step back, you let yourself breathe, ignoring the way Rafe's fingers twitched at his sides or how he clenched his jaw.

"You're so—" He cut himself off, his eyes closing as he turned around.

You studied him carefully, but your mind was racing. Thoughts swirling like a bad storm.

You knew tomorrow, or at least soon enough, you'd be back in each other's arms, acting like nothing ever happened. And frankly? You're glad. Glad because, even after the arguments, both of you would still come crawling back.