By the time their first year together closed in, Ethan no longer recognized himself.
He used to be disciplined—the kind of guy who never missed class, who submitted assignments early, who ran in the mornings to clear his head. But now? Classes slipped by unattended, assignments half-done, mornings spent recovering from sleepless nights tangled in Aria's chaos.
His life revolved around her.
She demanded it without words.
"Come with me tonight," she would say, showing up at his dorm at midnight with smudged eyeliner and the smell of liquor clinging to her.
"Aria, I have a test tomorrow—"
She'd pout, tugging at his arm. "Ethan. Don't be boring. You'll ace it anyway. Come on, just this once."
And he would. Always.
Hours later, he'd be standing at some club's edge, watching her dance with reckless abandon—sometimes with him, but more often with strangers whose hands lingered too long on her waist. Ethan would drink to numb the jealousy, to blur the sight of her slipping away from him over and over.
Yet every night ended the same: her curled against him, whispering half-slurred words.
"You're mine, Ethan. Don't ever leave me."
And he'd whisper back, "Never."
Daniel noticed the changes.
"You're fading, bro," he told Ethan one evening when he caught him dozing off in class.
Ethan rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You're chasing after a girl who doesn't even want to be caught."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "You don't know her."
Daniel sighed. "I know what she's doing to you. You've lost weight, you've lost focus, you've lost yourself. And for what? A girl who treats you like an option."
The words pierced Ethan's chest, but he couldn't admit the truth. So he walked away, choosing Aria over reason once again.
The cycle deepened.
Aria cheated—Ethan knew it. Sometimes she was sloppy about it, slipping away for "girls' nights" that stretched until sunrise, returning with hickeys she blamed on "rough dancing." Sometimes she didn't bother lying at all.
One night, Ethan confronted her after she stumbled into his dorm smelling like another man's cologne.
"Aria, please," he begged. "If you love me, stop."
She tossed her heels onto the floor, collapsing onto his bed. "I do love you. But you suffocate me when you talk like that."
"Suffocate you? Aria, you're breaking me."
She sat up, eyes sharp. "And yet you're still here. Why?"
Ethan's lips trembled. "Because I can't breathe without you."
A smile ghosted across her lips, equal parts cruel and tender. "Exactly."
She kissed him then, and Ethan let the betrayal dissolve beneath her touch.
Soon, he wasn't just in love—he was obsessed.
He memorized her schedule, waiting outside her classes just to walk her to the next one. He checked his phone a hundred times a day, desperate for her texts. When she disappeared, he scrolled through her social media, dissecting every post, every like, every cryptic caption.
It wasn't healthy. He knew it. But knowing didn't stop the craving.
One evening, Daniel found him sitting alone outside the dorms, staring at his silent phone.
"Waiting for her?" Daniel asked.
Ethan didn't answer.
Daniel sat beside him, voice softer this time. "You're addicted, Ethan. That's all this is. She's like a drug—you think she makes you alive, but she's killing you slowly."
Ethan's eyes burned. "Then why does it feel worse when she's gone than when she's here breaking me?"
Daniel shook his head. "Because withdrawal hurts. But you'd heal eventually. If you stay, you'll never heal."
Ethan wanted to believe that. But just then, his phone buzzed with Aria's name, and all the pain melted into relief.
That night, Aria dragged him to a rooftop party. She drank too much, danced too wildly, kissed strangers in front of him—and still, when the crowd thinned and the night grew cold, she came back to him.
"You're still my favorite," she whispered against his lips, tasting of vodka and smoke.
And Ethan clung to those words as if they were enough to erase everything else.
Later, lying awake beside her, Ethan finally admitted the truth to himself:
He wasn't in love anymore.
He was addicted.
Aria was his beautiful poison, his bad habit, his cage. And no matter how many times she betrayed him, no matter how many times he swore he'd walk away, he always came crawling back.
Because he couldn't imagine a world without her in it.
And maybe he never would.