He still remembered the day She died, the day He died. It was burned into his blank retina's for the rest of forever. The scene kept playing out infront of him, his punishment for his sins, whatever the fuck they were. Rose went down first, the Condesce's trident driving into her chest. She let out a small, wet gasp, and as the Condesce pulled her weapon out, stained with blood, Rose fell. Blood started to gather around her body, and with the last of her strength, She reached out towards him. It pulled at him, that last gesture of needing a form of reassurance, of comfort, in those last moments. It made his anger grow.
And in his moments of anger, He made a mistake. He ended the same as Her, his Rose. They lay next to each other, their blood mixing together. He looked over at her, reading her lips as they moved, a trail of blood leaking out of the corner of her mouth.
"I knew this would happen, I knew this would happen…" Her voice broke as she coughed up blood. He silenced her, reaching out and patting her hand. "Relax Rose. It's no big thing. We're going out together." His voice was laced with fear, but she must not have heard it. Her eyes softened, those perfect violet eyes gazed at him. She held his hand tighter. "Together." She whispered.
Rose left first. He watched as the life, that little spark, left her behind. In one way, He was glad she left first, He didn't want her to have to see him die. On the other hand, He had no idea what would happen after. He had no idea what dying felt like. Was it the excruciating pain that was shooting through his body, or was it the spreading weakness that was progressing through his entire being. He had no idea. But He knew when it happened. One minute He was there, and the next, He was gone.
Then, She was there. Like a fucking God sent miracle. Rose, standing infront of him, her arms crossed over her chest, and a smile on those painted black lips of hers. God, was He glad to see those lips.