The way they commented them about their relationship was weird. It was absurd how some people, who claimed confidently that they knew them more than they knew themselves and each other, could just say anything they like according to their own point of views. It was unnerving, even to him. A guy who never gave a flying rat's arse to anything and mostly everything, except her.
She was the golden girl. The one people turned to when they were in trouble. The one that could manage everything, from teenage parties to prom night. The one with knowledge more than that of the smart girls. The one who was friend with everyone, except the ones who were obviously and completely jealous of her. The one who stole his heart and never gave it back. He never minded though. He gave it away willingly the night he noticed her dancing alone under the moonlight with tears like precious diamonds falling from her beautiful eyes with silver orbs.
They were in a party she threw, but for some reasons, she walked outside and chose to watch the sky instead. He was out because he wanted to smoke and breathe clear air. He noticed her. Swaying her hips lightly to the nonexistent music but all the same time crying because reasons he did not know yet. She looked vulnerable.

"Emma?" he called out.
She froze instantly. Her hips no longer swayed, it stayed still. She deliberately looked back and found a pair of black eyes looking at her like a pair of x-ray that could see the inside of her.
"Yes?" she called back.
"You don't know me, do you?" he asked, lighting up a cigarette.
She laughed bitterly. "How could I possibly ignore the greatest mystery our school ever had?"
He nodded. "What are you doing here?"
She quickly dropped something to the ground.
"What was that?" he asked, his tone was cruel.
"No-nothing. I didn't hear anything." she replied, rather too quick.
He nodded briefly but started walking towards her. She fidgeted the hem of her sleeves and avoided his gaze. When he finally reached her, he pushed her gently and searched for an object that she dropped. He finally saw the object because it reflected the shine of the moon. It was a razor. He picked it up and put it in front of her face.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Um... a razor?"
"What are you doing with a razor, Emma?" he asked softly and put the razor to his tuxedo.
"Well... I wasn't... it's not mine.., I mean..."
"Whose is it?"

She shrugged. Still avoiding his eyes.
He had enough and reached to her soft chin. He lifted the small facial part and stared deeply to her eyes, silver met black. "Answer me, love."
As his eyes bored into her, he could feel the telltale of hers to water. Her whole body shook and tears started to stream from her eyes. Her teeth started to grind with each other. She could not take it anymore, so she hugged him tight.
"Hush now, love. Tell me who hurt you.... hush now."
When her cry subsided, she began to tell her story. How she often cut herself in her thighs just to feel something. How the demons from her past constantly catch up with her and how she could not deal with it. How she was used to have people who were disappointed at her and she wanted to feel perfect. How she was the one people talk of but never talk with. How her friends wanted to be with her without  wanting to know her background. How nobody was ever brave enough to ask about her life.

They both ended up staying at the garden all night talking about their lives. Her eyes never left his, as his never left hers. She woke up in his arms, feeling his hand caressed her long silky hair between the fingers, for the first time in her life, she felt safe and cared for. They started to see each other. To seek warmth, safety and sense of something familiar. Being together with him was the most natural feeling in the whole world. She felt at home. He was home. Although he had his dark past, different type, but still altogether the same case of neglected teenage with lack of affection and constant criticism. He was the warmth and the source of attention that she needed. She was the anchor and the life he needed.