He heard the step behind him and turned, scarcely having time to register the knife in the man's hand, before the sharp blade slipped into his flesh below his stab vest, the man's other hand let go of the handful of his shirt and he was falling. He tried to cry out, but he could scarcely breathe.
He heard her voice. She was on her knees beside him, he looked up at her and tried to speak, the chill was spreading through his body. Her arms went round him, he could feel her holding him, her hand pressing over the wound in his side. But it was too late. He knew he was dying. He looked up into her eyes, and tried to tell her that it was alright and not to be sad. His last mortal sight, her big blue and brown eyes looking into his as she begged him not to die. He tried to obey her, but his life was draining away.