A/N: The fight we never had,
Heh, Leo.

The light is bright against my eyes. I don't even try and look at you. I'm squinting in the darkness at your retreating back, resentment churning in my stomach.

"Well fuck you too!" I yell, but it comes out cracked and harsh.

Stumble into the wall, and "You're so fucking full of it!" I hear. I step back, startled for a moment to hear you say,"Look at you! You're drunk, asshole. I mean, why the hell do I even put up with you?" You're waiting for an actual answer. But my tongue is too dry to give you one now. That's your cue to sashay away, your long thin legs moving fluidly under the night light. What's with that light?

"I love you!" bursts out of my mouth, though I'm not entirely sure it's what I intended to say. Is it even true? I frown before gauging your reaction..which will be,

"Ha!"

My heart falls quickly, and so do I, I think. I find myself leaning against the wall because my legs are so so tired of holding this weight up. Daze, and stare at your laughing face. I want to laugh with you, but I wouldn't know what I was laughing at. I don't know how you'd take that.

I settle for a half hearted chuckle.

"You're so full of shit, you know that? You honestly think I'm going stay with you because you throw some romantic bullshit at me at the last minute? Well forget it!" Forget what? I am thinking, but I let you continue nonetheless. "You can't even make up your mind about this, about us. Well guess what? I'm done! I'm sick of this game, I want something steady, alright? I want a 'for sure' answer from you, and I know you can't give me that." Your voice softens a hitch, "I'm sorry, Leo. But I can't take your indecisiveness anymore. I'm leaving you."

Your speech takes a minute or two to settle into my brain. And once it's there, I feel as if you've thrown the whole world on me. My heart thrums heavy and loud and hard, and I'm sure you can hear it, standing on the sidewalk with your sorry face and short green skirt. Everything inside me is screaming at me, and a heaviness settles over me.

I want to agree with you. I want to say, 'Baby, don't I know it? I wish I had something steady to stand on too.' But I know you're right; I know you're telling me what I don't want to hear even if it's the truth. I want to say, 'no no, don't walk away, don't give up now. We got time, just wait a little longer and see.' I want to run my hands over your smooth white skin and plant kisses on the back of your neck. I want to wake up with your face buried in the crook of my neck. I want to breathe in your scent and think, 'You are mine now, darling.' But instead of doing all this, I slide down to the floor and vomit on my jeans. The heave leaves my stomach aching and tears trailing down my dirty face. But from what, I don't know.

I lean my head against the cool brick wall. The stench wafts up to my nose, and makes me turn away. Breathing is harder now, especially since that damn light is shining so bright into my eyes.

"Hey," I hear. You're squating in front of me, concern in your face, your voice. I stare hazily. You stare back with this look in your eyes. What the hell are you thinking? Your big hazel eyes are no match though for uncordination. Soon my eyes are wandering even though I don't mean to.

"Hmmm. How are your eyes so brown and beautiful when you're drunk?" I blink. "And how'd you get yourself so drunk, anyway? I swear, I turn around for one second.." your voice trails off then because you heft me up till I'm standing somewhat shakily. Then you wrap an arm around my waist and walk me down the street slowly, murmuring gently. Your fingers weigh heavily on me and all of a sudden my mind blanks. I can't concentrate. I want to open my mouth and tell you that it's not your fault I'm drunk. But is it my fault if I'm so inept and stupid?

You help me into the car, closing the door with a soft click. I stare as you walk around the car, even though you think I'm disoriented and crashed. You wipe tears from your mouth then lean against the door, crying silently into the air, hands clutching your face; though I'm sure all you can hear is the distant buzz of the light overhead, obscure and plotting, whispering, 'Leave him.'