Trust


'Do you trust me?'

The words echoed into the past; all the times she'd tried to shoot him, hurt and turned her back on him.

'Would you give me my gun?'

He'd taken the gun as soon as she came, hidden it amongst the candy, trusting she'd never look.

'Would you trust me not to shoot you?'

He'd taken it for her own good, now she asked for it back.

'If you can't trust me, then why am I here?'

He did trust her - he loved her. So he gave her the gun.

And reflected upon his mistake from The Centre.