He pushed me off the roof.
 There was no warning, no raspy whisper of goodbye, no fake, fake tears; just the steady sparatic breathing of a liar as he jerked himself forward, and slammed hard into my chest. There was no anguished scream, no accusing, bone shattering words, just pain; raw, tender, pure pain. It seeped into my bones, contaminated my nerves, and dug into my chest. Slowly, painfully, it burned through the tender flesh of my breast as it reached out with its one gnarled hand to grasp my heart. Then with a final, agonizing jerk, it tore my soul out.
 I saw him there, watching me as I fell. He looked at me as if he were searching for something, anything. Regret, sadness, hatred. I wouldn’t give it to him. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching me fall both physically and emotionally.
So, instead I just stared back up at his face as it steadily got smaller, smaller, and smaller. I memorized the sharp curve of his jaw and the beautiful, pale marble colour of his face. The wild locks of ebony hair had contrasted so perfectly against that skin.
Though I was now too far away to make out his eyes, my mind renewed the picture and displayed it before my gaze. The most amazing amber orbs ate into my face, fire flickering in their depths. Hints of warm chocolate brown lingering in the bottomless  pits. Every time I’d looked into those eyes, the taste of him would lie on my lips, the crisp, minty scent of him would invade my nostrils, and pride would posses my mind. Pride that those eyes, those bottomless, burning orbs, were mine.
The edges of my lips curled up into a poignant smile of satisfaction as I saw the slightest flinch in his stance. The slightest bit of uncertainty, of doubt. Then that tiny bit of doubt spread like a wild fire, devouring him all too quickly, eating him alive, and before he knew it, he was crouching on the edge, hand splayed so far over that if he leaned just a little more forwards, he would be gone, falling after me, with me.
As much as every working nerve in my body was begging for him to feel the pain he’d caused me, to fall with me and die with his heart in my arms, the small bit of sanity I had left was whispering to me at the back of my mind.
It reminded me that I still yearned for those gentle touches, for those secret smiles. It reminded me that even though he’d torn my heart out, I was still happy; happy that it was his gentle, calloused hands that held it, no one else’s. And it reminded me that I loved him. And when you love someone, you sign an oath to protect them from all harmful things, especially yourself.
So, even though he probably couldn’t see my face by now, I tossed my head from side to side in a silent denial of his offer.
He withdrew from the edge, and I felt my skin wrack with shivers as soon as his scorching gaze left my writhing body. But all the same, relief  poured into me, soothing me, quenching my lust, and filling the empty hole of where my heart used to reside.
I closed my eyes, feeling the wind's claws scratch over me, combing my hair out in a flurried mess, tugging on my clothing with invisible hands.
Then, out of nowhere, his voice careened into my ears, my name draped in a sob on his soft lips.
I smiled again, feeling the wind once again wipe away the warm tears that streamed from my eyes.
I think, that even after I hit the ground, I kept falling.