No Control

"You don't like me," I said. "You just don't like that I see through you."

He looked her up and down slowly, deliberately. "I don't like the way you make being miserable look romantic."

I swallowed. "I don't like the way you make being empty look charming."

Silence. Thick. Heavy.

Niall straightened first. "You should fix your lipstick," he said coldly. "It's smeared. Makes you look desperate."

I curled hands into fists at my sides. "You should stop pretending you're better than this," I replied. "You're just as broken. You're just louder about hiding it."

His mouth twitched-something like anger, something like restraint.

"Goodnight, Daniela," he said, and brushed past me, shoulder clipping mine just enough to feel intentional.

TW: drugs, violence, alcohol, mental health, suicide attempt, SA...