I just looked at his hand. Just laying there, covered in his own blood. I didn't want to but I had to look at his face. Covered in blood, he closed his eyes before he died. I grabbed I rag and tried to wipe the blood away. The blood on the scratch was dry. I got some off of his arms, but his neck was still bleeding so I gave up.
I put my hand back on his head and basically pet his hair. I couldn't stop crying. He just told me he loved me, seconds before he died. I didn't say anything back, not even out of pity, but I doubt he would've wanted me to out of pity.
I already missed him. Those little Dixon smirks that he would only give to me. Those nights when he was my last hope, my best friend. It just made me cry harder when I thought of never seeing him again. Never hearing another kind word, or his awkward, mumbling advice. That one night when we kept watch together and he gave me his poncho to block the cold. I knew he cared about me, but I just hope that he knew how much I cared about him.
"I love you too" I kissed his forehead even though he couldn't feel it.