˚ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˢ : " 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, "
[ ... ] 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 to relationships ( or, whatever the fuck this is ), and all the toxicity of tying himself to URL, that he hasn't quite mastered. he knows that makes @natal7e tick, and how to fan the fuel of her fire, but not quite how to extinguish the flames. there's a gap between them that will always go unmentioned, of a past hiding behind her that he can never quite poke and prod at. far too heavy, holding a mysticism that he's not even close to being mature enough to handle. they'll always be just that : almost what the other needs, but never quite enough. " i don't know, nat ... you tell me. it's fucking tiring being the villain of your life all the time. give me a break, yeah ? " worst part of all of this : it was probably his fault, too. but when both of them have wilingly tied blindfolds around each other's eyes, and agreed that they will only talk about the stuff that don't matter ... reality's sharp hit stings eternal. " ... you think i like fighting with you ? i'm fucking tired too, "
