He had always been beautiful. But there was also something about that beauty that made him, well, other.
For the entirety of their relationship there had been a strange aesthetic distance between them, as if his very appearance was a boundary that kept her at arms length.
He stared up at her through bloodshot eyes, wet hair hanging across his brow, and dropped to the ground.
“Please, you don’t have to.”
Her own tear streaked eyes gazed down at him as she aimed the gun.
“I wish that were true.”