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The sky was painted with shades of orange, pink, and blue. The sun is setting on a day well spent. On a day spent with Minute. You two had been practically bouncing around from place to place. Going from running around a children’s playground, to getting ice cream, then finally this fish and chips place that Minute insists is the best and you can’t help but agree.
The day was perfect. You’d taken Minute to all the places you knew he loved, all the places he’s ever shown joy in. Every moment you had the chance you hugged or squeezed his hand just a bit tighter. Savoring the feeling— savoring him. All good things must come to an end, right?
You met Minute with the sole purpose of killing him. You staged a first interaction, looked up details about his favorite things to force compatibility, followed him around to learn his schedule. You’re good at what you do. At eliminating targets quickly and without any problems.
Of course this time there’s a problem.
Minute was just so easy to like— to love. So easy to bask in his presence, it’s easy listening to his voice, letting your heart flutter at the thought of him, allowing your mind to wander at the thought of what you could be. What you might have been if the universe allowed. It was too easy to get attached.
Your mind is flooded with the easiest way to kill him and your favorite memories simultaneously. Your heart twisting at the thought of his smile and beating quicker at his hand grazing yours. You both yearn for him and need him dead. You feel the same need to hear him say, ‘I love you’ as you need to watch his breathing slow. It’s cruel and awful but it’s all you know.
It might have been a simple choice between life and love if you didn’t know he loved you. If you didn’t know he wanted you just as bad, if not more, than you want him. So you’re leading him to the top of a cliff, his hand in yours and the waves crashing across a rocky shore.
You’re aware he will fall to his death just as you fell in love. Your footsteps follow close behind. You’re nearly in sync although his feet hit the dirt just a moment before yours. The soft crunch of steps against a trail you’ve taken before. A path you both have gone down before. A path only one will come back from.
You can’t bear to look at him. Can’t bear to see him right before your impending betrayal. Even in your refusal you know he’s staring at the sunset. You know he has that awed look you adore on him, the one with widened eyes and parted lips like the ones after your first kiss. Lips that kissed you with a fervor you’d only ever dreamt about. Lips that spread into a grin that’s burned into your memories, a smile so perfect you’ll never forget it.
You desperately want to see his skin glowing under the sun’s rays. You want the last image of him to be as beautiful as your perception of him. You know it’s selfish but really, when have you ever cared about being selfish?
Minute stops and you realize you’ve made it. His hand leaves yours, your palm missing his warmth but refusing to acknowledge who created that feeling. You can hear shuffling for a bit and the sound of a blanket being splayed across the floor.
A glance up shows the sun has nearly set and Minute is sat on a white blanket. He still has that grin across his face. He pats a spot on the blanket, beckoning you closer. You listen.
Your feet take you before your mind has time to catch up. You sit with your legs crossed on the blanket, still not looking him in the eyes. Instead you stare at the stars, your eyes focused ahead as if your life depends on it. An unhelpful part of your brain reminds you it does.
Minute seems to take your silence as an invitation to lay across your lap. His head laid perfectly in the middle of your legs, staring up at you with lovestruck eyes. You can practically feel the adoration radiating off of him. It’s both inviting and deadly. A concoction you seem addicted to with how often you search him out.
“Bro, I can basically see you thinking.”
Minute’s voice shatters the silence. A hand comes up to your chin, gently tipping your head down to stare at him. His grin only widens when your attention fully focuses on him. Your smile comes naturally as his face comes fully in view.
“Dude, shut up.”
Your voice sounds out after his. A scoff leaves your mouth but it’s playful, just as it always is.
You fall back into silence relatively quickly. The only sounds being the crash of waves, chirp of crickets, his breathing, and the sound of your heart beating. You’re certain he can hear it too despite the fact that no, he obviously can’t.
Eventually the sun begins to rise once more, dread creeping into your veins as the sky lights up. You glance up from Minute for the first time since the previous night. The stars have disappeared, replaced with the same pinky oranges you saw just a few hours ago.
Minute stares at you for a bit longer, his obnoxiously charming smile fading to an expression you’ve never seen on him. You return your vision to his eyes but the adoration has shifted into something different, something dangerous— determination.
He lifts his head and brings himself to stand, going towards the edge of the cliff. You follow him, your feet taking you to the spot directly behind him. His eyes are unreadable, his gaze looking down towards the rocks scattered across the land below you. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.
“Leo?”
Minute’s tone is just as unidentifiable. Thoughts race through your head and some horrible, awful, disgusting part of you hopes that he’s about to leave. That he’ll turn away and never look back. The reasonable part of you knows that isn’t what's about to happen.
“Yes, Minute?”
You sound shakier than you wanted. You’re too unsure. Uncertainty could get you killed and yet you find that isn’t a fear with Minute. You know he would never hurt you. It’s unfortunate he shouldn’t say the same.
Minute turns towards you, grabbing the collar of your shirt and pulling you in for a kiss. You’re caught off guard but quickly recover, wrapping your hands around him. He tastes like sin and love and devotion. He tastes like everything you’ve ever wanted and everything you’ll never have.
He pulls away although it’s hesitant. He takes a step back towards the edge, pulling you along with him. Your eyes never leave his, your hands remaining planted on his body. He’s still close enough to feel his breath, to see the way his eyes move as his vision wanders to different parts of your face.
It’s a long moment before he speaks again, more certain than you were. More certain than you’ll ever be.
“Push me.”
Your breath hitches, eyes widening. Questions flood your head but none of them make it out of your mouth. A concerning amount of emotions flow through you and you’re certain they show on your face just the same.
Minute presses a kiss to your cheek, gentle but far too quick. His voice is softer now, more reassuring. As if you’re the one needing reassurance right now, as if you’re the one in danger.
“I know you have to. Just.. do it. We’re already here.”
His grin returns but it’s different. His eyes are coated with longing and his lips are quivering as they try to mimic the smile you know far too well. It’s a shitty attempt at pretending to be okay with this and you both know it.
Your mouth opens and closes, trying to form words you aren’t sure how to ask. Trying to phrase an impossible question, trying to function when you’re losing your everything.
“I- I don’t—“
You try, your voice cracking at the seams. His head tilts slightly towards the edge, something akin to grief across his face.
“I saw the paper. The one with my picture and a price.. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots.”
His voice is almost fond, almost. You can hear the way it drops near the end. You felt the way his heart beat quicker with every passing word. It was your job to understand him. To know him better than he knows himself. You can tell when he’s putting on an act and this is the biggest of them all.
“I’m sorry.”
Your voice is considerably more collected. Sewn together with practiced lies and tears you have yet to shed. You made your choice the second you stepped foot on the cliff, all you had to do was come to terms with it.
Minute’s eyes fill with salty regrets that he refuses to let fall. He pulls you impossibly closer, his ankles teetering off the edge. His eyes are set on you, refusing to look anywhere but directly in your eyes. His voice isn’t nearly as sure anymore, his heart pounding against yours.
“Push me.”
Nearly a whisper, something you could have mistaken as the wind. It doesn’t matter if it was his voice you heard or not, you didn’t hesitate this time.
You don’t dare look down. You can’t bear to see his body coated in the sun’s rays. Can’t stand seeing the sun warm him in a way you were once allowed to.
Your footsteps sound against the dirt once more, a single stream of steps. You don’t leave, not yet. You go to the blanket exactly where Minute once laid. You give yourself a moment to mourn, a chance to feel the leftover warmth on the fabric. Once the time is up you’re back to folding the blanket, tucking it under your arm.
You’re moving before you know it. You’re covering the footprints you left in the dirt, looking for any trace of you. Any trace that Minute wasn’t alone on this cliff.