"I just want to ask you," his messy blond hair fluttered in the wind, adding to his haggardness, "Why don't you reject me?"
My vocal cords seemed to be out of control of my brain, and I concocted a bone-chilling lie: "In order to make you relax your vigilance, I had to make a fool of myself; or, drunken sex may be one of the reasons... This is human nature, isn't it?"
"Then, return the gun to you." He smiled bitterly and dropped the cold metal instrument on the ground at my feet. There were piles of crystal, glass, fragments of porcelain, torn cloth, and remains of flesh and blood.
"Come on, shoot here." The position he circled with his fingertips on the upper left side of the chest was obviously the heart.