"I never stood a chance, did I?" The words were like poison on my tongue, spoken of their own accord, words I'd never, ever wanted to say, not to him. They sounded so helpless, I could hear the fear in my own voice, I could hear the desperation hidden behind a veil of impassiveness that I put up to protect myself more than anything else.

"That's the sad part - you did once." He wasn't looking at me, he was looking at the floor, at anything but my face, like he was just unable to look me in the eye.

Once.

The word seemed to shoot through the air towards me, straight towards my chest like a sharpened knife, echoing around the room as it smacked right into my heart. In that single word, there was everything, everything encompassed and pulled together, compressed to hurt me all the more.

Once, you had been every star in my sky, once you had been as dear to me as the air I need to breathe. Once, you meant everything to me, once you had been my entire world.

Once... past tense. Was. Had been.

I was frozen in place, stunned, unable to react. Charlie had just spoken the words that I'd been dreading the sound of for weeks, months now. The truth said as it was; that we were dead to each other, that this wasn't working, that everything that we had had was over.

I'd known it would come, but it was still jarring, like my heart had skipped a couple thousand beats, or maybe just flatlined altogether. Suddenly I was thrown back in time to three years ago, to that magical night at some nondescript bar that had landed me with the man I'd grown to love ever since then.

I'd been kind of drunk, tipsy really, nothing major, nothing that would put me out of rational thinking. He'd been the server at the bar. Charming, blatantly flirting with me as he refilled my glass for the second, third time. To me, he'd been cute, but I'd been too drunk by that point to really see just how gorgeous he was, how perfectly sculpted his features were, too drunk to actually appreciate the beauty of his smile, the perfect curve of his lips.

I don't know why he kept talking to me, maybe he was as interested in me as I was in him. Anyway, after a few hours - by which point I had switched to Sprite instead of the vodka cocktails I'd indulged in at the beginning of the night - we had exchanged numbers and arranged to meet up again, some time soon, out-with his workplace, somewhere that we could really get to know each other.

I went home that night happier than I'd ever been in my life. I was feather-light, the stunning sight of his piercing, beautiful silver-eyed gaze burned into my mind. It wasn't something that I wanted to forget, not when it was matched with that charming smile, not when his eyes glinted like precious stones, like silvered diamonds.

We took to each other like paper to a flame.

I met him again three days later, in a café this time, a nice place that was calm and orderly and quiet, the kind of place that you'd find in a romantic movie or something, when the love interest meets the main character.

That's what I'd been hoping for, as sappy and stupid as it was. But, strangely enough, that was along the lines of what I got. He was even more beautiful in the daytime, his face utterly picturesque, his smile bright enough to light up the entire city. Our conversation flowed easily, I couldn't stop admiring him, I couldn't stop looking at him.

It was all so brilliant, intoxicating, it all escalated so breathtakingly fast, a blur of frantic emotions, of love and adoration and happiness.

It grew from friendship to love, from late-night phone calls to nights spent driving and falling asleep under the stars on some far away country road, lying atop his car, brought closer by the chill winds of the night.

We were both into watching the stars, it was one of the many things that brought us together, one of the commonalities that we shared, something that we would spend hours talking about in those early days, when the fire burned bright between us.

Our first kiss was spent on one of those nights, watching the stars. We'd been wrapped in each other's arms, mumbling about the stars, the constellations, the kind of stuff that doesn't really matter. I'd looked at him, turned my head away from the sky and towards him instead. I'd looked at his lips, traced every slight crease with my eyes, and then, I'd leaned forwards, and our lips had connected.

It was like a burning pleasure, such a simple, delicate kiss that had me only wanting more. I had leaned back, panting slightly, seeing the surprise, the glee and adoration in his eyes, and then I had leaned forwards again, and it'd been just as brilliant as the first time, with sparks flying through my veins, my blood turned to fireworks.

And then, just like that, the paper burned to ash, the fire went out, the sparks diminished.

I don't know when it happened, I don't think there was really an exact date. It all just began to fray at the edges, began to slowly unravel. We started to break apart, piece by piece, unnoticeable until it was all too fragmented to fix, too broken to turn back and try again.

It started with a late-night conversation in a bar, with smiles and flustered giggles and the soft melody of some old some playing gently in the background. It started with flirting and not-so-discreet checking out, with eagerness to meet and to become closer.

It ended with dull sunlight streaming through opened curtains, tight-drawn lips and downcast eyes, tensed muscles and hearts torn in two. It ended with silence, such thick, suffocating silence that I could feel it ringing in my ears.

"I loved you, Alex, this could have worked, I really thought it would have worked, but... but it's over."

That crack. That terrible, terrible crack in his voice that made my throat tighten, constrict, squeeze with emotion.

Yes, I'd known this was coming, I'd been expecting it, but I had never wanted it, I didn't want to leave him, I wanted to stay with him, to exist beside him for as long as I lived.

But... he had said 'loved'.

Past tense. Once. Before. At some point in the past.

And that, that was the moment that I felt my heart shatter.

"Why... why does it have to end?" I hated the forced impassiveness of my voice, I hated how much I was restraining myself from falling to the floor in a heap of tears and begging him not to leave me.

That wasn't really my thing, and he knew that, he knew I wasn't very emotional, that I was good at keeping my emotions in check and under control. Most of the time, anyway. Now? I was beginning to have trouble with that, I could feel my eyes filling with unspilled tears.

I'd never meet someone like him again, I could never meet someone like him ever again. There was no one else like him. He was the very definition of perfection. He was the person that I was meant to be with, he was the one that I wanted to be with forever. There was no one else for me, that was something that I knew for a fact, not after him, I couldn't see there ever being anyone else.

And I...I'd ruined it all.

We'd been living together for around six months, in a relationship that had lasted for three years overall. We were young, both just 22, both too young to have ever had any kind of proper commitment before all of this. We'd sold our apartments, bought a new one together for us both to live in, for us to share. We shared a bed, too, at first anyway.

Even then, even only six months ago, we'd been so happy together, so content to be with each other. None of us had expected this, none of us had seen the end approaching so quickly.

It was my fault, I knew that, my fault for having secrets that drew a line between us, that prevented us from being as close as we possibly could have been.

In all the time that I'd known Charlie, I'd never once told him what my real job was, I'd never once told him that I didn't really work in that office building over at the west side of town, I'd never told him that I wasn't really just an Office Assistant to some uptight millionaire who dished out better-than-average wages to his employees.

No, I'd never told him any of that, I'd never been able to, not if I wanted to keep it all a secret like I was supposed to, not if I wanted him to be safe. And, I loved him, so of course I wanted him to be safe, of course I wanted to keep him out of danger as much as I possibly could.

It was a disguise, an Office Assistant. It was believable, it was plausible, more plausible than my real occupation.

In reality? I was a Mercenary.

Not your average Mercenary, not the 'hire to kill' type. No, I was a guard, a personal guard to the most high class and rich men and women of our society.

They hired me to protect them, to make sure they had no one coming after them, that they were safe. It was a relatively low-key job, not something that was very obvious. All I really had to do was blend in with the rest, act like I was part of the little posh group of plucky million and billionaires who called for my services.

So, you can see why I couldn't tell Charlie that, why it had to be kept a secret.

These people had some bad people hanging over them, people that I had to take out, that I had to put an end to. There were gang lords, drug lords, all of that, people who could do a lot of damage to other people.

Not the kind of people I wanted near my personal life, or, preferably, me.

Charlie had suspected that something was off a few times. He wasn't stupid, he was very intelligent when he wanted to be, it was one of the many things that had first attracted me to him. It's always good to be able to have a decent, intellectual conversation with someone sometimes, someone who understands what's you're talking about and doesn't just look kind of blank. That's something that I find attractive anyway, and it was one of the many qualities that he possessed.

As I stood there, in front of him with those words flying around my mind still, I couldn't help but let my eyes trail down to his lips, running over them, remembering the first time I'd ever properly kissed him all that time ago.

It had been about three months into the relationship, which was years ago now. We'd been over at my apartment, laughing, giddy with adoration for each other, like the answers to everything was held within each of our eyes.

I had been holding his hand as I'd pulled him through the door after me, giggling as he'd bumped into my back. When I turned around, he took my other hand in his, and then I had pressed him up against the wall, my face inches from his, our slight height difference barely noticeable this close up. He had looked so, so eager for my touch.

I'd traced my hand across the line of his jaw, thrilled as he leaned into my touch, pressed his jaw to my hand, kissed my fingers, his eyes gently closed with longing.

Then, I'd leaned forwards, pressed my lips gingerly to his. It had been soft, gentle, one hand caressing his jaw, the other loose around his waist, his own arms around me. I'd never loved anyone more than I'd loved Charlie in that moment. The look of utter love and adoration in his eyes had been heart stopping, it wasn't something that I ever wanted to forget.

We'd kissed again after that, just as softly, just as gently like we were afraid whatever spell we were under, whatever bliss had taken over our bodies, would suddenly break, shatter if we were too rough with on another.

That had been the first time we'd ever done anything together, and it certainly wasn't the last. We'd moved slowly after that, nothing had been very fast, it had all just been slow, it had all been in its own time, at a pace that we'd never really agreed on, but had rather just went along with.

I was brought back to the present by the feeling of being looked at, stared at. Charlie. He was staring at me, looking me slowly up and down despite the tears in his eyes. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips as his eyes met with mine. What was he doing?

We were done, why was I even still here?

He looked just as confused as I was, but then his eyes narrowed, and in less than a second, I was the one pinned to the wall, I was the one pressed up against it, one hand on my chest, the other on the wall beside my head.

My lips were parted from the suddenness of it, from him suddenly so close, the sweet smell of oranges that seemed to follow him, that had always followed him, thick in the air around me.

Charlie seemed frozen, he seemed so unsure of what he was doing, of whether or not he should even be doing this at all.

"Fuck this." I whispered, lifting my arms up and wrapping them around his neck. I pressed my lips to his in one swift movement, one hand tangling in his hair as I pulled him to me.

This time, unlike the first, the kiss was rough, it was electric currents darting through my veins, it was shocks of pure ecstasy shooting though me with each second as we moved closer and closer to each other.

It felt so, so final, but it was the best feeling in the world.

For a second, a minute maybe, it was like the spark had flared back up, like the fire had re-ignited between us once more. He pressed himself against me, like he wanted to be as close as he could possibly be.

Our bodies moved of their own accord, our kiss never once breaking, only deepening. This was it. This was the last time. There would be nothing else like this, never in my life could I get something as good as this was.

We pulled apart after what felt like an age, our foreheads pressed softly together, the polar opposite of the strength and energy that had just flown through us a moment ago. We were both panting, both staring into each other's eyes.

Were we doing the right thing? Could we really break up like this? Never see each other again? Shatter and smash this snub of a candle flame?

"I-I loved you..... so, so fucking much." He mumbled. I could feel his breath on my cheek, I could hear the suppressed emotion in his voice, I could hear the choked back sobs, so similar to how I'd felt just before this.

My hand was still in his hair, still stroking the wiry strands that I had always found so brilliant to touch, to feel, to pull. I knew he liked this, I was only making this all harder for him to attempt, I was only making this almost impossible for him.

"Then why does it have to end baby, why can't we give it another chance?" I whispered, gazing into the brilliant pools of his eyes, feeling the thickness of my own sadness building in my throat as I spoke the words, keeping myself as emotionless and contained as I possibly could. Pet names, he liked those too, I knew he did, that was why I'd used it at all.

"I can't... I can't keep this up Alex, I can't do it... please. You're making this so hard for me.. I can't. Alex... I can't.... you can't leave" His voice broke on that last word, and so did my heart. "Fuck A-alex. I can't. I can't lose you...." That was when he completely broke down, that was when he started crying, the tears steaming from his eyes like a dam had broken.

"I... I can't lose you either Charlie." My voice was ridiculously quiet, the words spoken almost right into his ear.

I didn't even hesitate, I pulled him to me, pressed him to my shoulder for him to cry. I moved my hand from his neck to his back, hugging him now, one hand stroking soothingly through his hair, comforting him even though, minutes ago, we'd been about to break up. I didn't even stop to think that we weren't even together anymore, that I probably shouldn't be doing this, I should have just left already and let it all end like he'd wanted it to.

And now, I was comforting my ex-boyfriend, or maybe boyfriend, I wasn't sure. Either way, I wasn't going to let him go, I couldn't let him go incase something happened, I didn't want to let him go.

But, how can you leave the love of your life? How can you leave the one person that you know will make you happy and expect to ever find something as good as that ever again?

In short: you can't.