She knew she shouldn't do it.

God fucking damn it, she knew she shouldn't.

But she did.

She sat on her bed, crying, as she compared herself to the types of girls that George was into.

She compared.

She thought about it so hard.

The profile photo of the girl on his phone.

Skinny. Tall. Fit. Long black hair.

Emi wrenched out a sob.

The girl was gorgeous.

Emi was short. Almost George's height but not quite.

He probably enjoyed someone with long legs.

Someone who wore make up.

Someone who was hot or sexy, certainly not pastel and quiet.

Emi just thought of your hot model in the movies and magazines.

Emi couldn't look like them, she didn't know how.

Oh god, and the bars.

George thought he was slick, but she knew he liked to drink.

Women at bars, Emi had never stepped a single boot covered foot in a bar.

Nor had her lips ever touched a cigarette.

She didn't like that.

She didn't find it appealing in any way.

She was so different from George.

They were different.

They didn't belong together.

Oh, but then she remembered.

She remembered the day he left.

He kissed her, he told her that he lover her, and her him, and he cried with her...

She gasped as an ache ran through her heart.

She clutched the aching organ as her lungs pushed sobs further from her body.

And where was George?

Why was he not sitting at her door, begging her to let him in?

Why isn't he here, fixing the mess that he created?

What the fuck is wrong with him?

When he brought Emi home, he watched her as she began to move from him quickly.

He grabbed her wrist.

"I'm going to go out for a bit, will you be okay?"

'Will you be okay?' Emi wanted to laugh.

She wanted to laugh and scream and cry.

She wanted to scream how much it hurt her, she wanted to so badly.

But...

George wasn't hers.

Emi couldn't even look at him, and all she could do as she felt a burning in her throat, was nod.

She nodded and with reluctance, George let go of her, silently turning away and leaving without taking any sort of second glance.

Then, he was gone.

Emi jumped as the door slammed, and she turned around to state at it as she felt the tears burn her eyes.

She'd been crying for a while now.

It was almost midnight.

She sat there, biting her wrist to try and get her mind away from crying.

After a few wheezy breaths, she stood shakily, almost all of her energy depleted.

She slipped on her shoes, and without a jacket or warm clothing, she stepped out into the cold night air, the ferociousness of the cold shaking her bones further than they were already.

She, despite this, began to walk.

When she reached the familiar entrance to the forest, she breathed as deeply as she could, and began her trek.

~~~

George leaned against the tree.

The famous tree, that provided so many memories.

The roots were ungodly.

They were large, but blended so well that in the night, passers would not witness them before tripping over the roots.

He ran his hand through his hair.

He pulled out his phone.

He knew he shouldn't do it.

God fucking damn it, he knew he shouldn't.

But he did.

He texted her back.

'It misses the taste of you, baby girl.'

He closed his eyes as he hit send, shoving his phone in his pocket violently.

He huffed and leaned his back against the tree.

He thought of the memories.

The good ones.

Some of the bad ones, too.

Then, it hit him.

The airport.

The day he left.

He told her that he loved her.

She loved him.

They kissed.

They cried.

He didn't forget.

No, he didn't forget.

As he thought about it, small footsteps could be heard.

He looked up to see Emi, she looked so cold that her lips were turning purple.

"Emi, what are you doing?" He asked.

Emi paused.

She looked at him.

They locked eyes.

She looked away.

She continued to walk.

She passed him, but just as she did...

He foot caught against the root.

She fell.

She let out a yelp, landing on her injured hand.

George moved to help her, but she jerked away.

They stared at one another for a moment, and she got herself up.

She brushed the dirt from her clothing.

And once more...

She walked away.