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REALITY CHECK

I stand there, shell shocked and grieving. No amount of self loathing could have countered this. I turn around slowly, to see Zach, still wincing, his hand on his shoulder and I walk up to him.

“You okay?” He rotates his arm, and his face twists painfully.

“I have the finals tomorrow, fuck!” I wipe off the blood on his face, with my sleeve, and my conscience pricks me even worse when I remember whose t-shirt I had on. The irony is brutal. And it’s on me. Everything is, in fact.

I fucked us up. All three of us.

“Zach, I need to tell you som-“

“Tomorrow. After the win. I’ve had my fill for today.”

He grunts once more in pain, before taking me in an embrace, and I wrap my arms around his neck, crying silently, the strong cold wind hitting us both on the empty ground.

“I love you.” He whispers into my hair, and I break down further.