Rummaging through the desk, Veronica finds a weapon. It seemed different. Not like his usual choice. This one was simple. A six chamber magnum with a single bullet inside. As she looked it over, the door opened, startling her. Milton stood in the doorway with a haunting look of seriousness on his face.
"I thought I told you not to come in here." He said with a low, somber voice.
"What is this?" She asked him, referring to the gun. She knew what it was, but she wanted him to explain. He stood quiet for a moment before taking steps toward her.
"I been alone for a long time. Sometimes I feel too long." He took the gun from her and placed it gently back in the desk, "I don't expect you to understand." He sat in his red leather chair and placed his arms on the desk, slouching as he watched her reaction.
"That-" She spoke sharply, then paused. She was confused about how she felt. Angery, sad, hurt, attached to him yet wanting to go before she said something incorrectly. "You can't..." she said with a concerned voice. He stared at her before lighting his pipe and turning his chair away from her. She watched the smoke rise from the top of the chair, listening to him exhale. "I care about you... we all do." she said to him.
"Please," His voice drew out, "Leave my room. I'll be out and if you like, we can speak more later." She stood there uncertain. She was afraid now that she knew what hid inside the desk. "Don't worry," he spoke as if he could read her thoughts, "I have no interest in using it." After a moment, she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. She rested against the wall outside the room, her hand on her chest. She could feel her heart pounding. She felt afraid for the man she grew so close to.