Shorts

"If we don't make it through the night, will you find me when we wake up?" She asked, her voice little more than a wistful whisper in the quiet of the room. The two lay there, temple to temple as they stared at the ceiling, a cigarette hanging loosely from one of their lips, smoke rising from the dying embers to claw upwards and kiss the ceiling. "Yeah. Yeah I will. Fifth, District 16." She said, her voice choking up near the end. "I'll find you." She whispered, before taking another drag, breathing it out heavily as smoke poured from her lungs like a storm broiling over the horizon. "Good."

The click of a hammer was so loud in the silence, her hand bringing it closer before resting the revolver beside her lover's head. "Just... Just in case." She muttered, reaching up to take the cigarette from her lips and snub it out on her shirt, before tossing it aside, sighing for the last time. She reached up over her head to brush the other's cheek, before her hand fell to rest on the ground. The other reached up to hold the fallen hand, quite tight as she shut her eyes. "We'll make it." She whispered. The dust floating in the air had no light to catch it on it's way down, just the two figures on the ground and the cold, unforgiving wooden floor that was already rotting in the corners. In the newly born silence, the two waited. For what, they didn't know. Perhaps the gentle kiss of the sun, maybe the inevitable death that creeped outside their window, looking for a way in, maybe for their flesh to rot away and the vines creeping through the ceiling to descend and consume them. Maybe for the end.

The coughing began soon enough. Chests seizing and heaving as the two fought for air, red-faced on the floor as the carbon dioxide built up and the blood in their lungs fought for dominance in their rotting bodies, heaving breaths only spewing more of the crimson liquid out from between their lips to paint their hair in the depressing quiet. She relinquished her grip of her lover's hand to grip the revolver, bringing it towards her temple. If she were to fire, the solitary bullet would kill them both, paint their failing brains on the floor like some sort of cruel, twisted art piece. "No... I'd-" She coughed, twitching for a moment. "I'd like to see the sun again... The way it hits your hair... Like the day we met..."

"We both know it will never rise again. It set for the last time years ago." She whispered, tears joining the blood running from the corner of her lips to the ground. The same lips that had kissed her lover's so tenderly. "Goodnight, darling." She took her last breath, swallowing hard as the tears fought to wash the red from her face and failed. "I'll find you." She whispered, before her finger twitched, just a tad to flirt with the thought, before sealing their fate, the resounding bang catching the attention of the death that awaited them outside, heads perking up in cruel interest.

And it was quiet.