He had been asked to dance, and he accepted. He hid a smirk. This was exactly what he wanted. Make him trust him, then end it all for him. Make him love him, then break his heart. Literally.
He felt for his dagger, hidden away beneath his robes. So sharp, He pricked his finger at the slightest touch. They danced, and danced. The very moment the dance ended, he broke away, and beckoned for him to join him in the gardens. He obliged.
They met, hidden in the shadows. He leaned in for a kiss, but then at the last moment, stabbed him in the heart. He looked at him, face full of shock and betrayal, blood spilling from his chest, and fell to the ground. Done. But then why did he feel like he had been the one stabbed? Why did he feel broken?
He fell to his knees beside him, apologizing over and over, tears streaming down his cheeks. He lightly touched his cheek, wiping away his tears, his eyes never leaving his own. He was forgiven. The clock struck twelve, and the last of the light left his eyes. He was alone.
— end.
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for those asking who stabbed who, read the name of this shot =..)
