She looked up at him, confused and alarmed, obviously unaware of what had just happened. He smiled and kissed her lips, felt her respond with passion this time, and watched as she opened her eyes. She shuddered and inhaled, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. He would have to force her to leave in order to save her from himself. He was going to give her the freedom she still craved. He was going to make the hardest sacrifice imaginable. She had to leave in order for her to be safe. He was like a rabid dog, ready to turn on the ones he loved in the blink of an eye. If he were around Columbia, there would surely come a time he would turn on her. He remembered the lamp he had destroyed on purpose, the walls he had punched over the years, the hours spent attacking the punching bag, releasing his rage and darkness. He was a monster, dark to the core and unable to be trusted with delicate things. He realized at that moment that he was a much bigger threat to her than anything else on the outside. She was so beautiful he felt tears spring to his eyes.
“Please, little dove, come back,” he whispered again and cradled her against his chest.
She responded, moved her tongue weakly against his, then stopped. I can’t live like this, knowing I did this,” he whispered and kissed her lips. He leaned down, pushed the hair off her forehead and kissed her softly. She gasped, a small sound but one that crashed against his ears with the volume of a jet engine taking off. He felt like he was going to vomit, a sense of helplessness and uncertainty washed over him and he felt like he might go on a rampage destroying everything in sight to release the feeling.
Fresh fingerprints showed on top of the ones from before. Her face was pale, seemingly drained of blood, and the bruises on her neck now appeared dark red and black. “Columbia! Wake up!” he cried and gently shook her. He released them immediately but she fell back, unconscious as he let her go. She was tearing at them, clawing them and he could see stripes of blood covering the backs of his hands and his forearms. Dimitri woke up and found his hands tightly wrapped around Columbia’s throat.
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