Those two draining, petrified, beady eyes of him, staring into mine. My two blue ones wide and wet. At that moment I didn't know what to feel, or how to. I held him as he fell in my arms, his heavy heavy body. His limp weak body my arms. His chest was leaking a red liquid, the left side of his face was cut and bloody, his heels had blood dripping down and around all the way to his ankles. My own legs were red too. His weak body rested on there on my injured legs. I endured this pain for him, for we were suffering. I had placed my hand down on his chest, feeling that murmur in his heart slowly begin to disappear. His weak hand held mine, and I held on as tight as I could. My face went down near his and my chapped lips pressed gently against his one last time. I remember his other cold, pale hand on my cheek, wiping away a tear that managed to escape my eye as I moved away. 

He smiled. It was pained and forced but he smiled, his deep brown eyes looking into my wet blue eyes. I remember his last words, and oh were they wise.