#SLASH: it's never over

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summary: you were tired of your boyfriend's drug habit, so one night you asked him to choose between you and his habit. when he left you without an answer, you went to let all these things out of your head.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: angst to fluff, alcohol, described drug use

warnings: angst to fluff, alcohol, described drug use

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another glass has broken with your heart. you couldn't fix the glass once it's broken but the heart could. countless apologies, excuses, and promises would fix your heart, but not properly.

but you were sure this time, it surely broke and couldn't be fixed.

you looked at the floor. vodka was spreading through it, so your tears across your cheeks.

he turned his back against you. leaned his arms over the table. "don't... don't ever tell me what to do. you are supposed to be my girlfriend, not my mom, damn it!" he then rushed over to you. you weren't scared of him. you knew he would never hit you. but you were scared what was he going to say next.

"it's not my fault that you can't make me feel better than this shit!" he showed you a little pack of white dust. you felt helpless. you would hide his drugs away from him. and he was that addicted to find them no matter where they were. you would do this because you cared about him, and didn't want to see him killing himself over and over.

you wiped your tears and stood up. "i don't want to see you killing yourself anymore. you're not only killing yourself, you're also killing me! don't you care about me?!"

"bullshit, you're not dying. you're well enough to argue with me!"

"don't dodge the question, do you care about me?! do you want me to be happy?!" you were yelling at him and your voice got weaker. he was silent, looking at the floor. you gulped and approached him.

"i'm going to ask this you once again. you would always change the topic but this time you don't have a choice but to make a decision. drugs, or me?" you asked. looking at his big, brown eyes sincerely.

he looked at you. he wanted to say something, you felt it. or maybe you were wrong. he didn't say anything and went to the bedroom. you were standing not knowing how to react or what to do.

you wanted to swear to him, telling the most painful words to him. but at the same time, you wanted to talk with him again. trying to convince him to get clean for the nth time. you didn't care how much this was going to take. you just wanted to be happy with him.

but guess he chose to be happy just alone.

you left the home and went to the busy streets of los angeles, trying to find an empty cab. after minutes, you found and entered inside. you told the driver the name of the bar where you would often hang out with guys. you wish one of them was there.

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