Markiplier Imagines

62 // Remembrance

Drained; upset; tearful.

Maybe it was too much.

Maybe he could've done something.

Maybe he could join her.

Maybe he could've held her closer.

Maybe he could've loved her more.

Maybe he could've been there.

Maybe he could've taken the gun away from him.

Maybe he couldn't of done anything for either of them.

He could remember them. He could cherish every second he had with them. But he could never love the way he did with her, and he could never trust the way he did with him.

He didn't want to forget them. He didn't want to lose every second he had with them. He didn't want to love the way he did with her, and he didn't want to trust the way he did with him.

He was alone now, no one to complete him, and no one to keep him happy – he had kept others happy all his life, and tried to keep doing so, now, but with her gone and him having been gone for a while, he just didn't know what to do.

He loved her; she was made for him and him for her. But he couldn't stop time to save her from whatever horrible thing crushed her. He couldn't stop time for her.

And, now, he wasn't going to stop time for himself. He was just going to end it. Let time keep going without him in it. That was what he needed, because, without her, or him, he didn't see the reason to live.

Click.

Click.

─────────────────────────