We watched as the car burned and melted.
"Do you think maybe, we shouldn't have had that much to drink?" he asked.
I couldn't take my eyes off the wreckage.
"Yeah, probably," I mumbled.
The flames seared the bonnet of the totalled car and the smell of metal and gasoline became overwhelming. I remember reading somewhere, that space smelled like burnt metal.
"We should probably get away from it for now," he suggested. I immediately agreed, but then asked him what we should do if the surrounding forest caught fire. I said I'd feel bad if that happened.
"Well, I don't think it will. But even if it did...would it really matter after tonight?"
I didn't answer, but merely shook my head to signify no - it didn't matter if people found out. Nothing would matter anymore.
Hand in hand, we left what used to be his mother's car combusting on the side of the dirt path and walked toward the forest, deeper and deeper into an abyss.
He flicked open the heavy duty torch and shone the path before us.
The foliage wasn't too dense. The trees grew more sparsely in this area, allowing plenty of moonlight to seep through.
Soon enough, we reached the lake.
It was beautiful. There was a full moon tonight. Its reflection a perfect mirror on the still water.
We stood there and admired the scene before us for what seemed like an eternity. Breathed it all in.
He wrapped his fingers around my hand even more tightly. I looked at him, then he looked at me. Our eyes interlocking into a fiery trance.
"Let's do it," I exhaled.
From the back of his trousers, tucked into his belt, he brings out the gun - his father's vintage revolver. The barrel was polished so shiny and black. The light hit it just right so that it seemed to glimmer like a jewel. I didn't know if that was just my mind playing tricks on me.
With my heart pumping desperately, I watched him raise the barrel to his chin, angling it right.
He waited a minute of silence between us, his eyes watering up as he returned my nervous stare.
"I love you," he finally whispered.
Then he pulled the trigger. And I felt his blood splatter across my face.
Tears fell uncontrollably. My entire body heaved with ugly sobs and gasps. My knees weak, I knelt down next to his body, lying there so peacefully in the grass. I slowly unclasped the revolver from his hand. Then I brought it to my temple, my index finger caressing the trigger.
I looked up and admired, for the final time, the cluster of stars that lit up this part of the night sky.