There was a weariness that seeped down to the bone. He shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes meeting hers. They eyed each other cautiously for a moment. Everything had led up to that point, and now they weren't sure how to continue. There was an awkwardness pervading the scene that felt almost ironic after everything that had happened. He clutched his bleeding arm, then finally sighed and started to speak from his heart.
"The truth is," he spoke softly.
"The truth..." she scoffed, crossing her arms. She had heard enough about truth to look down on people who were still naive enough to invoke it when speaking.
"The truth is," he repeated more boldly, his voice growing stronger and more firm, his eyes never leaving hers, "that you will never be alone."
He let go of his arm, and embraced the woman standing across from him, who stood stiffly in his grasp. It made for an odd scene; two blood stained teenagers -- barely more than children -- on the edge of collapse, apparently hugging.
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