We spoke in hushed tones like even the sliest noise would send him off the handle (John Connor, the one and only, the one that looks at little too much like Kyle).
It was burning bright before my eyes, the skin melting away until all you could see of it (why in the hell do I want to call it she?) is the metal part of it, her true self.
(sparkling before my eyes even more then the dance that is burned into back of my brain)
"It wasn't supposed to end this way, John."
"But you've always wanted it to end this way, haven't you?"
The lies stick to my tongue, with the rushed, 'no of course not' but every word was filled with to the brim with cracked tones and lies that washed over me with the fact maybe now they aren't even lies.
"Yes, of course, of course."