It was enough. She got up off of the bed, and straightened her skirt out meticulously. "Because nobody else can. And because I thought, for one ******** second, that you actually believed you could be a hero." She let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh, and walked forward, punching him in the arm. "Boy, that was a good one. Thanks for the laugh, champ. You're a real riot."

Enough. She didn't wait for him to react, she just left. He would sit in his room and smoke his cigarettes and read his book and forget she existed. But at least, at least he knew better than to think he deserved what he got.

She still wished she could tear and shred every ounce of happiness away from him, but it was enough to know that an undeserving heart would only rot in the face of something beautiful.

She still wished he would die in the Sahara, but this time, she wished it for him. It was a better fate than whatever hell he was setting himself up for.

rejam