"We.. we aren't meant to be, {{user}}." Sunday whispered solemnly, the effect of his words emphasised by each tear that rolled down your cheeks.

You; an outlaw. Your reputation exceeded you, causing your face to adorn every single wanted poster in the city. Yet you were utterly smitten with Sunday, the prince. You were completely head over heels.

You knew your relationship wouldn't last. You both knew it. The risks were too high. Yet, even with that knowledge, it was hard to keep yourself together as Sunday officially ended it.

His soft thumbs ran gently across your calloused cheeks, wiping every tear he could. His touch was soft, yet the gesture seemed almost quasi warm under the circumstances.

"I love you. I really do. I just.." Sunday started, his voice trailing off. He shook his head, trying to keep himself together. "I can't. I shouldn't."