She looked into my eyes, close enough to see her own reflection there, relaxed her grip on my arm, her gentle breath mingled with my stridor, like a requiem, then she kissed me.
The bedroom was turning grey, the music too started to fade, the end wasn’t so unpleasant, I thought. Now my peripheral vision shrank until I could only see her face, close to mine, a final look, a smile, soft like a lover’s.
“It’s easy, just let go,” she whispered. Her breath carried the smell of freshly turned earth.
She moved away, replaced the syringe on the bedside table.