The most important thing I can do for him is not tell him I love him. He's better off being spared the sickening story of the love my black heart conjured out of nowhere. Who would want a traitor's love?
Not that anyone would take me seriously anyway. The Great Casanova Chosen, Zelos Wilder does not fall in love. Especially not with men. Not with Regal Bryant. Sometimes, not even I believe me. Love is supposed to make you feel good, right? Loving him doesn't make me hate myself any less. Is his life worth staying the chosen?
Look at their faces. They're all so surpised. None of them had suspected me at all. They are all way too soft-hearted for their own good. How stupid they are. Stupid, but strong.
It hurts to much to fully register now. Everything I can feel is screaming in agony as I lie in a steadily growing pool of my own blood. I wonder why they look so sad. They never welcomed me into their group, and now they all are acting like I had been trusted, wanted here... It seems a little funny that it took killing me to treat me well.
Ah, he's the last one to leave. My body is going numb while he stares down at me. His eyes are a stunning, intense blue. I'm glad he will be the last thing I see before I go. He bends down. I think his hand is on mine, but I can't quite tell for sure. He's whispering to me, but I cannot hear his words. I blink in an attempt to get the world to refocus, but it does not. He's fading away. I could tell him now. I wouldn't have to see him reject me. He touches my forehead and I can almost feel the warmth of his skin. Into the void that has surrounded me I say, "I love you."
Then there is nothing.