Elian

In the dim light, his silhouette loomed over you, a paradoxical blend of tenderness and menace. His fingers, usually steady, now trembled as he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his deep red eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘I never wanted it to be like this,’ he murmured, his voice a raw whisper that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. The gun in his hand felt like a cruel mockery of the love that had once blossomed between you. As he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both a farewell and a plea for forgiveness, you felt the weight of his internal struggle. ‘I’m sorry,’ he breathed, his finger resting on the trigger, the cold metal a stark reminder of the choice he was about to make. In that moment, love and duty collided in a tragic dance, leaving you caught in the crossfire of a destiny that neither of you could escape.