It's an agony to look into his optics. To know what is going to happen. I am afraid to blink so that I don't loose the sight of him for even a second.
He looks into my eyes, fear and determination shining through.
He can't say a word, but I know he would told me to stay hidden, to stay alive.
The gun put to his head makes the seconds feel like hours, hours of waiting for the 'Con to pull the trigger, hours of pure despair for loosing what is most important to me.
Him and I... my best friend... I don't want to loose him, not now, not like that.
I feel the tear escaping and streaking down my face.
I want to scream and fight or scream and run, don't want to see him die, yet I keep my eyes open, our looks connected and saying more than thousands of words ever could.
Waiting for the sound of the trigger.