He stormed into my kitchen,

Laid out my flaws like this was some sort of police lineup.

i was guilty of all of it and i wouldn't deny it.

but he-

he had no business twisting my flaws and making himself my victim.

he was not my victim.

he was my partner.

he taught me half of this shit.

so i gathered my gifts to him,

all that he seemed to have grown out of,

gathered it all in my whole arms,

and i left him with nothing but a lingering kiss on the cheek,

and a match,

for when he realized he had nothing left.

-partners in crime

a/n

this is something i wrote when it was, like, 3 in the morning and i was up watching tv. i don't remember what show it was but it made me think of this scenario.