"I can't be what you want me to be." Her eyes remained downcast as her voice quivered just above a whisper. "I don't want you to be anything you're not." He knelt by her knees, reaching a hand out blindly in the dark in search of hers. "I can't..." She flinched as the pads of his fingers brush the delicate skin of her hands. "I can't give you anything." Finally, she looked up. Her cheeks were streaked with the tears she had fought so hard to contain. Her lips, red and chapped quivered and her skin glowed a deathly shade of white in the dark. But that wasn't what he saw. He was transfixed on her eyes. His gaze glued to one that sent shivers running down his spine and drowned him in dark and deep waters simultaneously. And he couldn't fight it. She could dunk him hundreds of times, and stab him hundreds more and yet he still found a way to convince himself that it was okay. She was killing him, but he deserved it.