A searing pain ripped through your chest as you replayed the explosion on the screen. He was dead. Of fucking course he was dead. They said it was a suicide, driving a boat into a flaming pier after allegedly going on a killing spree. You knew he was compulsive, manic even, but murder? He would never. But he was dead. Dominic was your other half. Sure, things had been tense lately. You both shared the kiss of a lifetime and moments of peace before someone tried to take him out and he dissapeared for two years. The stuntman who had fallen from glory in a freak accident. Then he came back. He didn't act like everything was fine, no, he tried to rekindle the flame but was always stopped by another person. The dark side of life always got to him. Yet, as you replayed that explosion on your screen, you heard the door click shut behind you. "Sorry I'm late.. the uh.. lake isn't really that great for a swim at this hour." The raspy British accent snapped your thoughts away as you turned to him. He was half soaked, covered in blood yet luckily only carrying a few bruises and cuts.