"I wish I could be with you forever." Small, timid whispers, mixed with heavy, raspy breathing. Someone struggling to live. "I wish I could have saved you. I wish I could have been here earlier." Shy tears rolling down a passive, yet inner-scared face. A gulp and shaking of hands.
Red. There was lots of red. It sickened him. Red that wasn't his. Red coming from the girl he never got to be with. She lay beneath him, her head on his lap, her left hand weakly intertwined with his. "I wish I could I have stopped them. I wish I could have helped you."
Sickening, scared gasps, coming from the girl he loves. He gulped down a sob. "I wish… I wish I could have told you." His voice wavered. She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but only ended up sobbing. He wiped a strand of pale blond hair from out of her face. "I wish I could have showed you how I feel."
Sickening scrapes of fingernails to ground. There was nothing to hold on to. Snaps of broken fingernails. Cries of pain. Cries for needed help. And he only held on to her. He only watched.
They were coming from in all directions. Swarming. And she was with them. The one behind it all. This destruction. This pain. This agony. This… death.
More whispers—barely audible—for help. Tears. So many tears.
Then she finally spoke.
"Dirk… please." Such a painful, dying croak. A need for help.
A sob. Not from her, but from him. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."
She took her last wavering breath.
Then there was nothing.
Tears flowed freely from his cheek, landing on the bloodied girl below.
They came closer to them, knowing this was it. This was the end.
He kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered to her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "I'll be there soon. We'll see each other soon."
They got ready to kill.
A single tear. A squeeze of a pale, limp hand.
"I love you."
The new black queen's shrill laugh sounded out, as the Prince of Heart breathed his last.
I love you.
I love you too.