'break up.'

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July 29th 2003

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July 29th 2003.

"I need to talk to you," I said, my voice trembling slightly as I watched Connor sit down on the bed. I tried to steady myself, to find the right words, the strength I knew I'd need for this conversation.

He looked up, his face tense. "What's up?"

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my resolve. "I... I think we should break—"

His head snapped up, cutting me off before I could even finish. "No—what? Why?" His voice was sharp, disbelief and anger flickering in his eyes.

I swallowed, feeling a surge of frustration and fear rise up. "Because, Connor! You pushed me down the stairs. You're always making me feel like... like I'm not enough, like everything's my fault—"

His face twisted, his voice rising to match mine. "I didn't push you!" he shouted, his hands clenched into fists. "How many times do I have to say it? You tripped! And now you're trying to blame me for something that wasn't my fault?"

"Connor, stop lying," I replied, my voice breaking. "I remember what happened, and I'm done letting you make me feel like I'm imagining things. I'm done feeling like this."

He stood up, his body tense, towering over me as he glared down. "So, what, you just want to throw us away? Over one stupid fight?" He took a step closer, his expression darkening. "You think anyone else would put up with you, Blair? You think you're so perfect?"

I could feel my heart hammering, my hands shaking. But I forced myself to meet his eyes, refusing to back down this time. "I don't care. I deserve more than this. I'm done being afraid of you, of wondering if I'm crazy for feeling this way." My voice grew steadier, each word grounding me in a truth I was finally ready to admit.

He scoffed, letting out a bitter laugh. "Afraid of me? You're ridiculous, Blair. You're just... overdramatic, looking for an excuse to make everything my fault." He ran a hand through his hair, his face twisting in frustration. "Fine. But don't pretend you're some saint. You're always pushing my buttons, always doubting me."

I felt a wave of anger and exhaustion wash over me. This was the cycle, the pattern he'd spun for so long—twisting my words, making me second-guess myself. But this time, I wasn't letting him spin it back on me.

"Maybe I do push sometimes," I said, my voice trembling with both fear and anger. "But not because of me. Because you make me feel like I have to fight to be heard, to even matter to you."

For a second, he looked almost taken aback, like he hadn't expected me to push back. But then his face hardened again, and he shook his head. "Whatever, Blair. If that's how you see it."

A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I stumbled slightly, reaching out to steady myself against the wall. The argument, the tension, everything felt like it was crashing down on me all at once.

Connor noticed, his expression softening for just a moment. "You look pale. Here—sit down. I'll get you some water."

I nodded reluctantly, sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling too weak to argue as he disappeared into the kitchen. The room felt like it was spinning, and I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. But something felt wrong. It was more than just the stress; it was like my body was starting to shut down.

Connor returned quickly, a glass of water in his hand. He held it out, his expression suddenly calm and concerned, as if nothing had happened.

"Here," he said, offering the glass. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

I hesitated, but my mouth felt dry, my throat tight, and the idea of some water sounded like the one relief I could find. I took it, drinking deeply, hoping it would steady the strange fog clouding my head.

As I finished the glass, though, the dizziness only grew. My vision blurred slightly, and my eyelids felt heavy. I blinked, trying to focus, trying to push through the haze settling over my thoughts.

"Better?" Connor's voice sounded distant, like he was speaking through water.

I tried to nod, but my head felt so heavy, too heavy to move. My body started to feel numb, my limbs losing all sense of weight. Panic surged in my chest, but I couldn't move, couldn't speak. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and the world around me began to fade, Connor's face the last thing I saw before darkness closed in.

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a/n.
cliffhanger, sorry darlings 💋
- Lia <3

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