You get the rush While I rush to save you Fill up your cup While mine's empty trying to change you You're smoking me out 'til I'm on my last breath I'll give 'til I got nothing left You get the high I get the side effects

I hate that I'm so damn attached The prescription to all of your issues When your heart gets racing too fast You're calling and I can't refuse It's toxic, it's costing all my energy If I didn't love you, you'd be my worst enemy

After they were said, it was no longer a missile attempting to reach its intended target; instead, it was a direct strike at the very center of her being. She felt an immediate extinguishing of all of her fire as a result of the iciness, not just in his tone but also in the manner in which he fixed his eyes onto her. She was engulfed in the web of animosity they had woven between them, and she was caught in her own trap as everything backfired on her in such a spectacular way. For a minute, she was startled not just into silence but also left helpless and immovable.

Betty had yet to arrive with a strategy, any genuine expectations, or any other purpose beyond those opening remarks. She hadn't come ready for a fight, and certainly not to the level to which things had escalated, but she'd sought revenge for her hurt, and here she was being repaid in full for fighting fire with fire, being permanently scorched by the licking flames. She had come unprepared for a fight and certainly not to the level to which things had escalated. The hush that descended between them served not just as a symbolic but also a functional purpose. There was no turning back now; there would be no hasty apologies or clinging to one another as they had done so many times during the course of their shared past.

Once upon a time, there was an inexhaustible magnetism, which was a force that was larger than the world itself that forced and propelled them toward one another. Their connection may have been temporarily weakened by their split and the various relationships they entered into, but at its very core, it had been boundless. Or so she believed at the time. In its stead, a force known as repulsion emerged as a force that was equal and opposing to it. Betty had no choice but to take a hesitant step backward; it was her body's feeble effort to fortify her for what it was inevitable would follow next. Her breath passed through lips that were apart, and her voice was already trembling before he had even managed to get the words out. The course laughing with which he sought to recover himself by, the sweep of his palm down his lip an age-old tell indicating his deepest sentiments and fears she'd gone hunting for The course laughter with which he tried to recover himself by She dragged them to the surface. They laid them out for her visceral assault in an effort to cause him as much anguish as she possibly could, and she knew that she was successful.

She felt the emptiness in him reflected back in her chest, but it wasn't long before he spoke again, the dagger forced through her to the hilt so that she was sure the blade showed through her back in the place of her heart. It was a bitter victory for her, and she felt the emptiness in him reflected back in her chest.

"Get the heck out of here now."

She was unable to move her muscles on her own will throughout the subsequent seconds, which gave the impression that the passage of time had been completely slowed down. She had no more fight in her, no more cutting things to say, and she was completely spent. The transformation was almost palpable; the vengeful look that had been in her eyes only a few seconds before had been replaced by a glassy expression. It was as if he was no longer even in the same room as the monster that had been there before. Her jacket remained in her possession, folded neatly and crisply over her arm. She grasped at it now, needing some physical feeling to ground her in the reality of what she'd done, and her jacket stayed in her grasp.

It was a momentary sight, just a flicker in her eyes of the girl he'd fallen in love with all those years ago in the Blue & Gold newspaper office. It was her last opportunity to say goodbye to Betty before she abruptly turned away and began moving in a direction that was consistent with exiting the room. She felt the knob in her hand and turned it gently, but she didn't dare to glance back over her shoulder because she didn't want to see what was waiting for her there. Instead, she got up, opened the door, and walked out, slamming it gently shut behind her with a terrible silence that was only broken by the conclusive click of the latch. She was confident that he would lock it again at some point after she had left, but she thought it unlikely that he would be concerned if she tried to return for the second go-around immediately.

This was the end. This was the last act of their play, the tragic conclusion to their Romeo and Juliet story as it was destined to be written from the very beginning. Betty noticed that she was wandering down the hallway, oblivious to the ground under her feet and devoid of any clear purpose or objective. She could barely make it to the end of the corridor before she was compelled to lean against the wall for support since she was unable to continue walking. Her legs could not bear her weight and gave out from under her, leaving her looking like the broken wreck she felt right there on the hallway floor. Her eyes welled up with tears once again, but she couldn't place precisely when they did so.

Betty felt the gaping hole in her chest begin to spread, and each weak breath brought with it another searing anguish. As the anesthetic of her rage began to wear off, it left behind nothing but destruction in its wake. "What have I done...? Excuse Me?" It was a scream of despair and anger, yet no one was present to hear it or care that it was being said. An unhappy girl wandering aimlessly, broken and abandoned in a hallway.

Where her place in the world was.

The jacket slid off her lap as her hands withdrew within themselves and her fingers curled inward. She yearned for the gratifying agony that comes from fingernails digging into the skin. She pounded them into her flesh, the same shapes as ancient scars that had healed over the course of many years, with enough force to draw blood, but she did not stop until she had done so.

It was the only thing that could calm her down, even though she was pounding her fists furiously on the tiled floor at her sides in a fit of rage. She was angry with herself for having ever came to the event in the first place. Because she had harmed the one person no doubt full of questions about where she'd gone and what was wrong.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and got to her feet as the weight of so much self-loathing settled into its old fitted place atop her shoulders. With one final squeeze of her hands as a reminder of the pain she inflicted upon herself, she wiped the weight of so much self-loathing off her shoulders. Leaving as just a fragment of the Betty Cooper she had been before she entered, the other half of her still being trapped inside his apartment and raging on the other side of the door as she departed.