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Story Notes:

This is kind of depressive. Though, unlike everyone else, I think it has an happy ending...well sort of. Hope you like it.

He gently removed a loose strand of hair from her face. It was stained red by his touch but she didn't care so neither did he.


he uttered, nothing louder than a whisper, it was all he was capable of without breaking into tears. Tears he didn't want her to see.

She didn't answer, just repeatedly stroke his face in a slow and almost hypnotizing rhythm in an attempt to relieve the pain. Maybe hers more so than his. She felt so powerless. He would do anything to shield her from his pain, ironically enough that's what made it hurt so much. He wouldn't let her in.

She was looking deeply into his eyes as if she was searching for something. But she wasn't. She knew what she wanted to see was gone a long time ago.
He didn't care anymore, he had simply given up. The man with the iron will had finally succumbed to the Powers That Be.

Just looking at her made him remember a time he thought was left behind. But it wasn't.

Every time she looked into his eyes she could see all the scars that never really healed and it made her want to cry. But she didn't.

He was tired of being hurt, sick of pain, so he had tried to move on. He left the past behind and started a new life. But he quickly discovered that no mater how far you run, you can never out run the truth. At least he never could.

The truth shall set you free

He would never burden her with his worries, not even now.

"Trust me"

Until broken trust is an unspoken vow, something to take for granted. He needed nothing more than to take trust for granted again.

She was a woman of reason. Action - consequence. She would never do something like this with anyone else, but he wasn't anyone else. This was the man which she could recapture her entire past just by memories that included him. Memories he would still remember, probably more detailed than her. He was always good with these things.

As she stood here wanting to make one last unforgettable moment, not one of sadness, but one of joy, she found nothing worth remembering. This was just another fleeing moment in a lifetime of betrayal and scars that never really healed. Or maybe that was what she needed to think, so it wouldn't hurt to much.

He wanted nothing more than to save her from his pain. He did what he could, but she knew. She always did.

He could have stayed like this forever and in many ways he did. For years moments such as this was what got him through the day. He cherished them above the others as being pure and real.


You never ask someone to stay unless you know they can't. And the irony is he left a long time ago.

He used to love her. He probably still does but he managed to convince himself and the world around him that this was a closed chapter of which he would never revisit. He needed to not love her. He needed to keep their time as nothing but something i the past, something he could think about when the days got worse than usual. Then he would remember a better time. And dream of meeting her again. Of how she used to make him happy in the worst of times and how he didn't feel so worthless when he was with her. How he mattered, at least to her. But actually being here with her, he didn't want that. Dreams are what you make them. Reality is dangerous. You don't decide how it turns out.

He was never able to let her in again, and he never would be.
Not even now.

“Do you ever think about me?” She said to keep her mind of the pain.

“No,” He lied and added it to the list. But it didn't work, it never did. She just looked him in the eyes and knew how he really felt, like she always did.

She knew him so well that it scared her.

She shook her head and stoke his face one more time, even more tenderly than before.

He had been fiddling with the stand of her hair but only noticed it now so he put it behind her ear and tried to pull away from her. But he remained frozen. Stuck in the past that never really was as she gently stroke him one more time.

Her fingers were wet, stained from the red slowly making it's way down his cheek. She didn't care, for once she did not worry about the dark wile she was standing in the light.

He seemed to be losing his balance and leaned on her a little more. He had barley uttered a word since she came, but was now he talking vigorously about a cherished memory from their past. He stopped to take a breath every third words or so, but she would never tell him to save his strength because she knew he had nothing left to save it for.

She had been right, he remembered details she had long forgotten.

She could see his eyes glimmer as he slowly lost himself in a better time. When he was to short of breath to finish the story she continued for him. She would do anything to keep his eyes glimmering, just a little longer.

Because that's what friends do.

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