Chandler pushed me against the corner of the stairwell, kissing me fiercely. In the dark, rain-soaked hallway, my muffled sobs went unheard.
I didn't know how much time passed, but I felt like I was on the verge of fainting. When Chandler finally stopped, we were both gasping for air, neither of us saying a word.
"After tonight, let's forget everything from the past."
I clutched the stair railing tightly.
I held out my other hand to him, showing the scar on my wrist.
"Do I need to end up like her for you to finally let me go?"
That "her" was the secret between us.
Chandler grasped my scarred wrist, his expression complicated, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't.
Another clap of thunder came.
"Chandler.
"I'm so tired..."
Half a year ago, I met Chandler for the first time at a bar.
At the time, he had just graduated from college. I, on the other hand, was dragged there as a distraction for my friend who had just gone through a breakup.
In the corner of the bar, I saw Chandler.
He was curled up in the corner, his face flushed strangely, his eyes unfocused. It seemed he was out of it.