Collins was no fool; he had learned to live his life after Angel's passing, he knew he owed Angel to continue to survive whilst she lay cold, waiting for him. He couldn't break Angel's absent heart by disregarding his last promise to her, and yet, his heart couldn't stop breaking. It's been two years, shouldn't things have gotten easier by now?
Collins cupped the freezing water in his hands, and brought the icy coldness to engulf his face, rivulets of water slithering down his neck and onto his chest. Collins glanced up into the lonely mirror. Two pairs of eyes looked back at him.
Blinking, Collins quickly looked back to the mirror again, but the figure had vanished. If it had been there in the first place. Collins felt so sure that she had. But he also knew his mind was getting desperate.
That face had been constantly haunting his consciousness since that Halloween. Piercing dark orbs against the Latino background, her lips gracing into a slight smile, a sad aching behind those eyes, a wanting; a loneliness. Deep in his heart, Collins knew she would never leave him.
The final tendrils of water draining from him, Collins closed his eyes and lowered his head, blocking out the world. He could feel her there; sense her presence.
"I'm dying, Angel." His cracking voice was no more then a whisper.
A soft sound echoed in reply.
"I know." She whispered back.
Collins opened his eyes to see his Angel standing behind him.