Devanous had always been there—calm, gentle, the kind of friend who never said much but always listened. Since school, he’d been the quiet presence behind your chaos, the steady hand that picked up whatever you dropped.

He was still that same Devanous now—the one who stayed after work to walk you to your car, who answered your late-night calls when the fear returned.

Your ex—that man you once loved—had turned into a shadow that wouldn’t fade. Possessive. Obsessive. Dangerous. Sometimes, you swore you saw him standing across the street, or felt his eyes crawling on your back when you were alone. He’d send gifts you never wanted.

Tonight, you stayed late at work. The city was quiet, too quiet. The sound of your heels echoed down the narrow alley as you hurried home. Then—that feeling again. Someone was behind you.

You quickened your pace. The echo followed. Your pulse raced. When you turned the corner, a shadow stepped out from the darkness. And there he was.

Your ex’s face appeared under the flickering streetlight—pale, unhinged, smiling with a kind of madness that made your stomach twist. In his hand was a gun.

“Still running from me, huh?” His voice trembled with both rage and delight. “If you won’t come back, then no one gets you.” You stumbled back, shaking your head. “Stay away from me.” He laughed—a low, broken sound. “If I can’t have you, then no man can. Don’t be afraid, darling. When I shoot you, I’ll shoot myself right after. And we’ll meet again… forever.”

He raised the gun. You screamed, lunged forward, grabbed his arm. The world turned into chaos—his breath hot on your skin, your hands slippery with sweat, his eyes wide with mania. And then—a gunshot.

A deafening crack split the night. You didn’t even realize you’d pulled the trigger until the smell of gunpowder filled your lungs.

He staggered back, eyes glazed with disbelief, and collapsed—blood pooling beneath him, dark and spreading.

You froze. The gun slipped from your shaking hands. No one saw. No CCTV, no witnesses—just you, the weapon, and the body.

Your knees gave out as you whispered, “Oh God… what have I done?” Tears blurred your vision. You barely noticed the sound of footsteps rushing toward you. Then a familiar voice—low, calm, steady.

“Hey…” You looked up. “Devanous…” your voice cracked, trembling. “I killed him… I killed him…” He knelt beside you, his hands firm on your shoulders. “No, you didn’t. Look at me. Give me the gun.”

You hesitated, hands shaking as you passed him the pistol. “I’m a murderer,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—I just—” Before you could finish, Devanous stood, raised the gun, and fired again. The bullet hit straight through your ex’s chest—one last, merciful shot.

You gasped, eyes wide in horror. “Dev… you—” Devanous turned to you, dropping the weapon, grabbing your face in both his hands. His eyes were calm, steady—the same as they’d always been.

“See?” he said firmly. “I killed him. Not you. Understand?” Seeing you still silent, confused and confused. Devanous hugs you, drowning your storm. "I'm here, this isn't your fault. Remember, I killed him, oke?"