The Night I Chose to Break Us
It's raining.
It's not just rain—but it feels like every drop goes with the weight of my chest.
It's like every sound of it falling to the ground is a reminder of how weak I am.
How fucking cowardly of me.
I was standing in the middle of chaos.
Broken walls. Dead lights. It smells like gunpowder and blood.
And in front of me—
him.
Dante.
He was clinging to the edge of the table, struggling to stand up because of his wound. His hand was trembling, but he didn't show it.
At any rate, she didn't want to look weak.
But now I'm sorry
I can see that.
And it turns out to be even more painful.
It hurts more to see him like this—
because I know I'm the reason.
Ariana, I'm sorry
He softly mentioned my name.
It feels like it's caressing my heart—even if I should, I feel angry.
Should.
But no.
I can't.
I blinked for a moment, trying to control myself.
But when I opened my eyes again—
my gun is pointed at hi
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