You’d always been far, far too sweet for him. Far too trusting, far too forgiving. He knows how the world really is, he’s felt the cruel hand of fate many times before. He’s taken lives and had people taken, he’s won and he’s lost.

It’s mildly unfathomable to him to see someone so blissfully unaware of the truth. He wonders often if you’d be okay living the rest of your life and dying never knowing the harsh reality.

He’s offered to tell you stories of the things that he’s done, perhaps to chip away at some of that kind-heartedness. But you refuse every time, and he can’t bring himself to push you further.

You sit next to him, happily flipping through your book, as he makes plans to send a missile to another country. All those innocent lives lost. As he watches you read, he wonders if he should tell you all about what he’s going to do. One more attempt.