I should be worried, but all these stupid questions keep running through my head. When did he get a gun? Maybe someone gave it to him? I wonder what he thinks will happen now? His hand is shaking. I wonder what he'll do if he misses his first shot?

He shouts but I barely hear him now. It doesn't matter; it's always the same, but he means it this time. 

I don't even know what I feel any more. I thought I loved him but this... this isn't what it looks like when someone knows you love them. He looks at me with those beautiful soft eyes, but they're not soft anymore. Those eyes of his are burning me alive.

Screw it. Does he think he has the power now? He can man up and I'll fall in line? No, I can tell, he's still afraid of me. He won't love me, but there are other things I can take.

I stroll forward, and he stumbles back. I get close, close enough to touch him. He freezes for a second, then holds up the gun.

"Do it."

Well that surprised him. I could knock away that gun if I wanted or maybe kiss him, but this is what I want. I know how I feel.

He's still standing there. Pathetic.

"Well what are you waiting for? You said it yourself, you want me gone."

He turns, and I can see he's losing his nerve. He might think he's strong, but he can't stomach murdering a woman in cold blood. Honestly, what did I ever see in him beyond his eyes?

"Let me help you with that."

I grab his hand and shove the gun into my chest. I look deep into his eyes; fear, confusion, pity? That does it. I pull the trigger, and I know I'm not leaving. Ever.

I smile through the pain. "I hope you're pleased with yourself. How could you kill an innocent woman like me?"

It's not much, but it's enough. I'm never leaving this place, but neither is he. Two tortured souls, together, forever.