Days of complications, months of misunderstandings and years of bad timing had left them empty. Staying afloat by the memory of each other. She would remember how his lips would brush over her shoulder, and him how her fingers drew paintings on his back. And then just as they surfaced for air again she would also remember all the girls he would throw himself at, her then pretending not to care, and him wondering why she didn't care. They were like an addiction to each other. One everyone knew was perfect, except them.