I fought for control with everything I had.
Elias's hands shook as they reached for the pistol, his breath ragged, eyes wild with the promise of release. I seized his arms, forcing them still, whispering through gritted teeth:
"Not like this. Not tonight. Not ever."
He resisted, thrashing inside my skull, his voice breaking: "You don't understand! I can't live with what I've done. I can't—"
"I understand too well!" I snapped. "I jumped once. I fell once. And I ended up in hell for it."
Silence.
For a heartbeat, his struggle faltered. His despair pressed against mine, like two broken souls recognizing each other's scars.
But the pistol was still in his hand. And the choice was still there.