The cold marble floor intensifies the loneliness I feel. I have not been able to sleep for the last few hours, so I've given up and decided to watch the sunrise, wanting to see the warm glow spread across the landscape from the living room.

Just when I thought I saw a way out of the mess that has been thrown at me for that last few weeks, I was proved wrong. I must have starred the marks for several minutes. When I realized that I couldn't bare to look at them anymore, I hurried out and I nearly went out the door. Again.

But I am done running.

I have to start facing what others do to me, and what I have done to others. I don't want to be weak anymore. I can't be this fragile person that cracks whenever met with adversity.

I can't stop thinking about how they got there, and who put them there. When they put them there. The purple prints made me nauseous, imagining Matthew taking pleasure in someone else.

I guess I have no right to feel betrayed, or to be mad. I haven't wanted to admit it, but I did the same to him. In a way, what I did was worse. Because it was Nash, the one person Matthew didn't trust with me. I don't want to get ahead of myself. I don't even know what happened. But it is pretty self-explanatory.

I'm suddenly blinded by the glow, radiating through the window. I cover my eyes, curling up on the couch and hugging my legs. What I would give to go back in time...

I told Matthew I still loved him, partly because I had to convince myself. I couldn't keep denying it. Ugh but now I'm right where I started, so fucking confused.

I walk back into the bedroom, sitting down beside Matthew, watching him sleep. His eyelids flicker, and I wonder what he is dreaming about. He frowns, so I stroke his hair, traveling my hands down to his face, feeling the stubbles of his shadow on his jaw, to his chin. Sometimes I still can't believe he loves me, and that's why this hurts.

He loves me, in the cruelest way.

...

I dump ice into the water, pop some Advil on the plate beside the sandwich, and I deliver it to Matthew's room, who just started to wake up.

"Hey you, I made breakfast," I say. Well, it's technically lunch since it's 2 PM. He slicks back his messy hair, looking at me for a few seconds before realizing I'm actually here. It's likely that he doesn't remember anything from last night, but I act non-chalant. I hold the plate in front of him, but he pushes it away and gets up from bed in a flash. He stands tall before me, looking down at me, ignoring the pain of his hangover. He stares intensely into my eyes, and my breath hitches at the reminder of what it's like to be looked at by those beautiful hazel eyes.

"Matthew..." I whisper, expecting his next move. I expect him to puts his hands on my waist, pull me close and hold me in place for our lips to meet.

But he doesn't. Instead he wraps his arms around me, embracing me in a hug. He holds me tightly, desperately. A few seconds pass before he buries his face in my neck, releasing painful sobs into it. I place my one hand on his neck, traveling up through his hair, comforting him. The other I use to hug him back, I feel his broad and strong back underneath them.

"Shh," I try to comfort him. I'm not even willing to release him. I hold him tightly, my whole body responding to his cries. Like an instinct, I hold him closer.

He backs away, looking at me with with brewed tears in his eyes. He runs his hands along my figure, looking at them as he travels them from my shoulders to my hands. He shakes his head in disbelief, looking up at me again.

"Lucy," he reminds me of the bliss that comes from hearing him saying my name. He exhales with a smile on his face, almost like a small laugh. He then puts his hands on either side of my head, running them through my hair.

"You're here," he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine. He closes his eyes, stroking my cheeks with his knuckles. He leaves small kisses on my cheeks before reaching my lips, pressing his lightly against them. Painful tingles shoot through my body, reminding me of the first time he kissed me.

But when I come to think about what other lips have been on his, I back away, struggling to breathe steadily.

"Stop," I place a hand on his chest, holding him at a safe distance. I gather the courage to look him in the eyes, but I flinch when I see the bleak expression in his face. I stare at him, moving my hand to meet his cheek, trailing it down to the purple spots. We never lose eye contact, and I see him grow pale when he realizes what I'm touching.

"Lucy, I..." he starts with a scarred voice, grabbing my hand, pulling them away from his neck.

"How did you get them, Matthew?" My voice hears surprisingly steady, and I can't feel a hint of uncertainty when Matthew is left speechless.

"Where were you last night?" I demand, our bodies completely frozen in time as we stare at each other, broken silhouettes in the perfect picture.

"I was... out," is all he dares to say, his deprived guilt finally showing clearly.

"What was her name?" I choke back the hundred tears stored. His grave sight ensures the answer to my questions.

"I don't remember," the harsh casualness in his speech makes me cringe.

"You don't remember?" I challenge, disheartened by witnessing what Jack had warned me about so many times.

"What did you do with her?" I'm surprised i even dare to ask him, and his reaction fourthly stirs fear in me.

"We... She... gave me a blowj-" he says, before I hold up my hand to silence him. I can't bear to hear the end of that sentence. It feels like a knife stabbed into by chest, puncturing my lungs.

I exhale with an aching feeling of being crushed by the bitter truth. "But Lucy, listen to me!" He takes a hold of my hand, holding it tightly against his chest.

"All the shit that we have been through, I know theres a happy ending for us," he says, utterly convinced.

"And last night, I realized something," the intensity in his voice, eyes and touch ensures my full attention.

"I realized how much I never want to hurt you ever again," he moves closer, releasing my hand. "How I can't bear a second knowing that I am the reason you are hurt?"

"How I never can live without you again, without these hands, your face," he says, holding onto my hand as he strokes my cheeks with his knuckles, then landing his palm on my chest.

"And your heart, your beautiful heart," I notice his eyes welling up.

"That how if I have you, I won't need anything else!" He exclaims desperately, his hands landing on my waist, pulling me close. I struggle with everything I've got not to give into him, but I fail again. I react by leaning my head back, making my lips meet his. But feeling his skin against mine makes me nauseous, thinking about who they were in contact before me.

I know I have to tell him. I have to say it. But with it comes the fear that once I say it, we are done forever.

"I kissed Nash," I say once i push him away. I hear him stop breathing, and his grip around me loosens to the point where his hands fall to each side of his body. He backs away, with the most inscrutable look on his face.

He shakes his head, his lips twitching as a tear falls. I look down on the marks on his neck, and I can't keep denying how broken we are.

"You didn't," he begs, his withering eyes making me hurt.

"I did," I admit again, underlining the confession. He turns away, with an enraged look on his face. He pulls at his hair, releasing an agonized groan. He loses control, kicking the bedside table, swinging his fist across the lamp, sending it straight to the other side of the room. I sob as he shouts into the room, making me cross my arms, my shoulders strained. I fear for what he might do as he slumps to the ground, looking back at me. Not with anger, or disgust. But with suffer.

I get down on the ground beside him, the wake of the destruction. "We're broken Matthew," I tell him, and he turns to face me. "And I don't know if we ever can be fixed,"

"Lucy," Matthew shakes his head, then leaning it down towards the floor. He brings himself up, sitting right before me.

"There is nothing in this world that we can't move past," he says with such persuasive intent that I wipe away my tears, listening intently.

"And I know that we are supposed to be together,"

"Either you realize that or you don't, but I know that we will end up together," he presses, moving closer to place his hand on my neck. He looks into my eyes, deeper than ever before.

"I can't live like this Matthew," I say, shaking my head.

"Whenever I look at you, I put my guard up and beg that I won't get hurt." I stand up, and he follows. We stand there for a few seconds before I wrap my hands over his neck, clinging onto him.

The sunset sneaks through the windows as we stand there, unsure of the future.