I picked up a pillow and pressed it down on him. He struggled for a long time... then suffocated. Just like our final moment of passion, which had gone beyond reason and nature, and sank along with the world.
"I want to have one last meal with you. Today is the anniversary of the day we met," I said.
"Okay." He managed to speak with great difficulty.
We both knew what had happened. He'd spent the entire night in a room with his first love behind my back. There was no need to spell it out, and no need to fire another shot.
But my tears betrayed me and began to fall.
Did I love him too much?
No!
I thought there had to be something wrong somewhere.
I picked up the pillow and pressed it down again.
Then I took out a specially made straw and pried open his beautiful eyes...
He seemed to have "come back to life."
Note: The female lead didn't "kill anyone"; no one "dies" in the entire story.
Theme: Love yourself
