“I’m not. I’m scared”, she whispered before her voice got clear again “Don’t you see, I can’t talk to you.”

His raising an eyebrow met her staring into space. She desperately tried to avoid all the questions in his large turquoise iris pinning her down.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“I can’t. I never could.”

He sighed. And you could hear the artist in him, the way he cleared his throat, making space for more pressing remarks. The mad genius in him, even in something so trivial.
She caught his wrist then, pulling him in. With her lips touching the tips of hair next to his ear, she struggled for her last words before she would turn around and walk away from him.

“I wish we had gone to hell when we could. But you left me behind and now I’m leaving you. Not because I can but because I have to. I’m not letting my eyes see you again. You would be able to make it better for me. You always could have made it better for me. But you never chose to. That’s why you’re you. And that’s why I’m letting go.”