The Death of Me
I felt something wet against my hand and I let my eyes glide open, my gaze on my hand, on the one over his cheek, on the tear that left his eye and collided with my skin, that tear felt like a stake being driven straight into my failing heart.
His eyes opened and he looked at me, "Why did you do this to us?" His voice was a pained whisper, he didn't care to hide it, he didn't run away from it. He showed me in his eyes how vulnerable I have made him. I've always been his weakness but now, now when I go, I will no longer be.
I lowered my head, my eyes on his chest as I brought my hand and placed it over his heart. I closed my eyes when I felt it beating hard, racing through his chest. I did it
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