The question hung in the air like an unfinished prayer, delicate and heavy with meaning.
"What would you do… if today was your last day on Earth?"
Rosaline turned slowly to face him, the soft evening light catching the shimmer in her eyes. Her brows drew together in slight confusion, and her voice was cautious but curious.
"Why would today be my last day?"
Vicent looked away, his breath catching. A part of him screamed to take the words back, to brush it off as a joke, but the other part—the one tangled in truth—remained silent.
"I was just asking," he mumbled, forcing a chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. "Nothing serious. Just… curious."
But Rosaline wasn't fooled.
There was something in his voice. Something... trembling.
The wind swept past them, ruffling her golden hair as she stepped closer to the bridge's edge, resting her arms on the railing. Below, the river whispered secrets neither of them could understand. Above, the sky turned from orange to deep velvet, stars beginning to blink awake.
"If it were my last day…" she began quietly, her gaze far off, "I'd visit my parents first. Just to hug them. To thank them. To tell them I love them, even if they already know."
Vicent's throat tightened.
"I'd go on a silly date with you," she continued, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Something wild and spontaneous. Maybe sneak into a wedding and pretend we're guests. Wear a sparkling dress to a tiny café. Dance barefoot in the street. Laugh until I cry."
She laughed softly at her own words, the sound fragile and beautiful. It made his chest ache.
"Then I'd spend the rest of the day with Grandma, Ashley, and my other friends. Just… be with them. Hear their voices. Feel them around me."
She hesitated, her eyes distant now, as if imagining it all.
"And at the very end…" her voice dropped to a whisper, "I think I'd run away. Not because I'm scared, but so that the people I love won't have to see me die. If I disappeared… they'd still have hope. Hope is softer than grief."
Vicent didn't respond.
Couldn't.
Every word she spoke carved deeper into him. Her dreams for her last day were filled with life. With light. With love. And yet, here he was—hiding the shadow that could end it all.
Rosaline turned to him then, her eyes soft but curious.
"What about you?" she asked. "What would you do, if today was your last day?"
Vicent inhaled slowly. For a moment, he considered lying. But the truth slipped out before he could stop it.
"I'd spend it with the one person I'm going to lose… and pretend, just for a little while, that I'm not the one responsible for losing them."
Her smile faltered.
"What?"
He blinked, catching himself. "I mean—" he forced a laugh, "I'd do what makes me happy. And I know what that is."
He met her gaze, the intensity in his eyes more serious now.
"It's you, Rosaline. It's always been you."
A delicate blush colored her cheeks. She tried to hide it, but he saw the corners of her lips quirk upward.
"So," he said softly, "let's celebrate today. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Let's make today unforgettable. As if it was the last."
She looked at him, her heart fluttering at his words. There was something about his tone—urgent, almost desperate—but laced with tenderness. As if he was trying to capture time in his hands and keep it from slipping away.
So they did.
They wandered through the town, hand in hand, laughing at street performers, trying strange desserts, dancing to music from a passing car. Everything felt vibrant. Rosaline didn't know why she felt the need to remember every detail—but she did.
Vicent, on the other hand, was memorizing her.
The way she talked to strangers with kindness. The way her eyes sparkled when she tasted cinnamon. The way her laughter filled the air like bells in a quiet cathedral.
He knew it might be the last time he'd see her like this.
And that truth burned inside him like a secret fire.
Just as the sky turned dark and the first chill of night crept in, two familiar figures appeared in the distance—Cassie and Vicent's mother, Marga, returning from their shopping trip.
Their arms were loaded with bags, and Cassie was the first to spot them.
"There you two are!" she called out, grinning as she walked faster. "I knew you'd be at the bridge again!"
Rosaline chuckled. "The bridge always finds us."
Marga approached, her eyes warm but slightly worried. "Rosaline, dear, your grandmother sent word. Said it's getting late, and she's starting to worry."
Rosaline's eyes widened. "Oh no. She'll probably call the mayor next if I don't show up soon."
"You should go," Cassie teased. "Before she sends out a search party and declares you missing."
Rosaline turned to Vicent, her expression softer now. She reached out, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.
"Today was fun."
He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek—a whisper of affection that carried more meaning than words. A farewell… wrapped in hope.
"Goodbye," she said gently. "See you tomorrow… at Halloween."
She walked away, joining Cassie and Marga as they headed toward the town square.
Vicent didn't move.
He watched her go, her silhouette growing smaller under the streetlights, until she was swallowed by the shadows.
Cassie nudged him playfully. "You're awfully quiet."
But he didn't respond.
He stood there, rooted to the spot, the world fading into silence.
Tomorrow was Halloween.
And it was supposed to be the end.
His fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in weeks, he felt uncertain. Felt scared.
In the deep silence of his thoughts, a single question rose like a scream he couldn't silence:
Can I really kill someone who is so beautiful, so innocent... and so madly in love with me?
And worse…
What if I don't?