Happiness
"Wait for me." He says it too quietly. "Please."
She's already walked away.
Wait for me. He wants to shout it at her. He can't, however hard he tries; a coward at heart.
He wants to run after her, to explain. But he remains standing where he is, frozen in place. People mill around him as they go about their lives, unaware his life has stopped—and now it's disappeared altogether. He's lost her in the crowd.
He hopes she finds someone else, someone better than him. He wishes her happiness.
He turns, walks away, and doesn't dare look back.
He lingers in shadows, blood slowly trickling down his back, and waits for her to emerge from the temporary hospital.
"I'm so sorry." He says it quietly enough that she has no chance of hearing him. (He wants her to.)
I'm here. I'm alive. He wants to shout it at her. He stays silent. It's what he's good at—keeping quiet when he shouldn't.
She sobs, lost in grief, her steps uneven and taking her nowhere particular.
He wishes she finds someone else, someone better than him. He wishes her happiness.
He turns, hobbles away, and doesn't dare look back.
THE END
Author's Note: I've had this idea in my head for some time now—it's such a heart-breaking parallel between Reese and Finch. I don't know whose situation is the more tragic, really. Both hurt my feels! Thanks for reading. :)