He clutched the guitar to him, as if to make himself believe that by holding it as close as he could, he could stop the last echoes of the song she had played from escaping. He closed his eyes, trying in vain to hear the words again, even though they ripped him to the core. The metal of the strings resisted his grip, digging into his hand, but he didn't let go. He wouldn't, couldn't let go, not until he could hear the last remnants of the chords that she had played. He wanted to cry, to scream, anything, but he couldn't. He was frozen, torn between a hatred of the way her words made him feel, and his love for her. That constant ache, multiplied tenfold when she sang, her words so honest, and yet so cutting. He wished with all his heart, that he could let go of this cursed guitar, and smash it, until it was as broken as his heart. All this time, his face remained expressionless, never showing any sign of the turmoil within. They were the last two people in the classroom; she stood, shouldered her bag, and walked out. He bowed his head, his emotions threatening to engulf him in all their ferocity. He looked up to the empty doorway, and a tear slid down his face, "Please don't leave me..." he whispered....