"I know you're probably blaming yourself for trying. Or something stupid."

She doesn't have long to really speak before his hands are on her face and she knows what's coming. It'll be quick, it'll be painless. She'll be dead before she can blink, before she knows what's happened. She's quiet for a breath as he speaks.

And when it seems like the time is almost there, she raises her hand and pats his cheek. A thank you perhaps or a dumb impulse like all her dumb impulses the last day or so, with her brain all muddled.

A twist and her hand falls limp to her leg.