Even in death you looked beautiful. Rafael couldn’t shake that thought as he stood before the cold metal gurney that you had been carefully been laid out upon. His fingertips brushed the soft hair away from your pale features. Your skin was barely warm under his touch, there wasn’t enough heat to give him the hope he so desperately craved.
Your head was tilted towards upwards, your pert pink lips parted slightly and your intense, once expressive eyes closed. One of your arms rested upon your stomach and the other lay palm open on the gurney. His brain flitted back, reminding him of how you how you had looked this morning, naked and curled up amongst the crisp white sheets in his bed.
That smile of yours twitching at the edges of your lips as you raised a suggestive eyebrow in his direction
“Come back to bed Rafael.” You had teased, the tone of your voice alluring as you patted the empty space on the mattress beside you.
He had wanted to. Jesus, he had wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed with you and kiss every inch of your nude form but he had been running late. Instead his lips had brushed your cheek before he slipped out of the door, leaving you completely alone.
Staring down at you he wished that he had called in sick this morning, that he had crawled underneath with you and spent the day making love. Instead he was standing over your lifeless form surveying the blood that was splashed all over your clothes. Someone had buttoned up your blouse but peeking out from beneath the fabric he could still see the ragged bullet hole just under the collar.
Had he said ‘I love you’ before he left?
The thought plagued him, fixating in his mind like a curse. He didn’t remember, he had been in such a rush…
The remnants of his heart shattered, his jaw clenching against that violent ache as he swallowed back the well of emotion building in his throat. His chest constricted as his fingers curled around yours, squeezing tightly.
This was his fault, there was no denying it, your death had been a message meant for him. He still heard the gunshot ringing clear over the phoneline, just second after you had picked up.
“Mi Vida.” He whispered. “I am so god damned sorry.”