“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Lila stood opposite me, on a night that was cool even by my standards. She looked at me through dark eyes, brown, her black hair whipping in the wind. The sight of her was not enough to lift me from my low mood, but usually it was.

“Come with me,” she said. Lila was two different people. She was beautiful, happy, playful, as hard to pin down as a living butterfly; but she was mysterious, secretive. There was no point in asking what she wanted. We walked together down the lonely snow-covered hill, the streetlights giving us a dim light in the purple darkness. One of the shimmering lights went off suddenly, flickered, and came back on a little darker. Everything that lights up will fade away again. And the thought of it made me scared.

“I want to break up, Ryan.”

My worst fears had seen that coming. Lila looked down at her feet, hiding an ashamed expression.

She murmured, “We’ll forget the past, Ry.”

“Or maybe I’m not able,” I said immediately. “We won’t ever be here again, Lila. We’ll never feel like this again. At least, not with each other.”

“It’s what I’m hoping for,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I can deal with our kind of love anymore.” She gives me a quick hug, and I inhale deeply. I loved her smell, lavender and cream. Lila starts to walk away, realizes that I’m not with her, and turns around. The wind dies down.

“You coming, Ryan?”

“I’ll be along,” I yelled. Killers, saviors. What’s the difference between them anymore? I wonder. They all leave you to die sooner or later.

She had not looked back, her light brown coat keeping her warm, her hair still flying back. I wanted to run, catch up with her, grab her hand. But she was too far away to hold.

Killers, saviors, warm gloved hands.

I guess I’ll let it go.

She turned around once more, but I was already heading back to my house by another route.