I looked down upon him, holding me tight in his embrace. I could see my face, slack and peaceful, and I could hear his screams. And yet, I couldn't feel his arms around me. Then I understood. I was floating above the scene, observing it. Was I dead? I didn't know. But, as I saw him screaming my name, begging for me to open my eyes, I could hear the words in his mind. The words that he never said aloud. I glanced around me as bubbles of thoughts swarmed around me. Us, sitting in our living room, bickering about what to watch. The small kisses that he stole before I would give up and stalk away. The nights in my room as I trembled from the wind, carefully making my way into his room to curl up next to him. Waking up in his arms, mumbling a soft good morning, and me snatching the first kiss from his lips. The secret looks in the classroom, the inside jokes. The small banter that we had practically every day. Him making me a cup of tea before kissing the top of my head and leaving me to my studies. Coming home from a friend's house to see him crashed out on my bed. And the fight we had just hours earlier. My words, as I said those three words with eight letters. And him not saying it back. It was my fault, I know. But, as I now look down upon him sobbing into my motionless body, I could barely make out his words.
"Please, don't leave me. I need you. I'm so sorry. I love you, Maka. I love you so much. Don't die on me. Come back. Come back…" He sobbed out, his voice broken. And, suddenly, I was looking up at him, and I could feel his arms around me. And, as he looked back down at me with his endless red eyes, I knew we would be alright. Because I love him, and he loves me back.