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At some point without either of us realising it, the argument changes; becomes realer, more personal. The words that we started off throwing at each other in play now wound, tiny utterances tearing strips from fragile egos and minds. "Silly cow" becomes "desperate, hag-ridden whore". "Pretentious poser" becomes "self-serving, self-righteous, self-absorbed piece of shit".



We stare at each other between barbs, eyes wide and breath coming fast and furious and acknowledge what we've always known.



Lovers know how to hurt each other the best.



And when it's all over we won't apologise, just come to each other in a way that we're becoming addicted to, a way that smoothes over the pain and hides it beneath a thin veneer of love. Our teeth click together as we kiss and I wonder about the violence we're trying to conceal.



He pushes me down onto the bed and buries his face between my legs, fingers and tongue delving within me, and I whimper.



"I hate you."



He pauses and looks up, eyes as glazed as his chin. "I hate you too."



And it's all the trigger I need to tumble over the edge.

The sun is hot and bright and we sit in it and laugh like the children we used to be, all tongues and teeth and heaving chests and screeches.



And while we catch our breaths and lay back together I reach for her hand, the way I always did. My fingers are cool despite the heat and her fingers flutter under mine like a wary bird. Her hand jerks away. "Don't," she says.



I turn to look at her, surprised. "But why?"



Her face in profile is achingly perfect. She stares up at the blue sky like she's never seen the colour before, and shrugs, just a little.



I watch her for a moment but she doesn't turn to face me. "Mari, why?"



From this angle I can almost see through her cornea. It's shining and crystalline in the sunlight and I wonder idly if it would shatter if I poked it.



She blinks, and her lips thin, forming words deliberately. "Because I never loved you, Jenny."



And she gets up and walks away, leaving me lying in the remnants of our childhood in the sun.