I'm sitting next to you, on your left. It truly is a symbol of trust because it is your weaker side. You trust me.

You're leaning on your elbow, chin resting on your knuckles. You're leaning towards me; again, trust.

You lids are hooded, feigning lack of interest, but I know you're paying full attention. You recross your legs, the swish of the gauzy cotton ringing in my ears. A familiar sound.

Whoever is speaking I'm not acknowledging anymore; I know you'll reiterate to me. Later tonight, we'll talk and I'll have my knowledge as If I'd read a book.

Suddenly, you glance at me through your peripheral. I'm trained enough to not react, but it surprises me nonetheless. You always surprise me; I wonder why. But in that moment when our eyes lock, we share a conversation. We have plans for tonight. I imagine your chestnut hair on my alabaster skin. I push the thought away. Impassive.

You smirk; you know. You trust me.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. The meeting has adjourned, and we stand. I grab you by the crook of your arm, and lead you into the hallway. There, you look fully into my eyes. Trust. I lean down and brush a lock of hair from your eyes, trailing down to cup your cheek. You close your eyes and lean into my palm.

Why do you trust me?

I push you against the wall, molding my body to yours. You open your eyes and they are unfocused. God, you trust me. A sharp intake of breath, and my lungs hitch. Swiftly, I grab your hand and lead you down the hall to your room. You call it "Our Room" but I never stay long enough for it to be owned by us both. I always leave before the dawn. You know that.

I shut the door behind us, and you turn the lock. Trust.

We are alone. A smile begins to grace your lips and your eyes soften. Another swish of the gauzy cotton, and we are at my favorite part of the night. You're mine and you trust me enough to let it happen.

When the night is done and we are laying naked together under the sheets, you lay your head on my chest and curl against my side. Slumber finds you soon. You know I'm still awake, but you trust me to fall asleep soon thereafter.

Tonight, I won't give into the sleep that tugs at my very being. This morning, you won't wake ever again.

As I lift the blade, it glints in the moonlight. I think of a lighthouse, signaling the sailors there is danger ahead.

They trust that light like you trust me.

Oh god, I am to betray this trust.

I push these thoughts away. This is war, and I am on the other side.

Impassive.

Dead.

I betrayed your trust.

Even though I am gone by the time the first songbird sings, you're still there. Cold. Dead.

I betrayed your trust. And while everything is said and done for once I think:

"I should be dead."