Twilight-esk

I felt his eyes brush across my skin, imploring me to turn and face him. How could he possibly understand the reasons I couldn't meet his gaze. How could he know the turmoil inside my head, the two sides of me waging war against what I knew was right and what I knew was what I wanted?
I was angry with no one but myself, furious with the way I couldn't handle this, but of course he didn't see that, he just saw my anger and it hurt him. I could almost feel the pain I was inflicting upon him through my indecision, I knew it would be present in his eyes and for that reason too I could not look upon his face. His beautiful angels face, twisted with the pain I was causing him, the heartache I was only drawing out longer.
An ice cold hand came to rest on my shoulder and as always the contact of his skin sent a shiver running through me as my heart sped up. I struggled to suppress these things, holding myself in check. He knew the effect he had on me; he could hear the pounding of my heart every time he laid but a finger on me.
What he couldn't read in my face he saw in my posture and as quick as it had come the hand was gone again, leaving a cold imprint in its absence.
I heard a rush of air as he sighed and without looking I could see him deflating in defeat, his head in his hands. This image tore at my heart and the pain was all real. How could I be this callous?
This silence was not only hurting me, at least I knew my reasoning, at least I wasn't in the dark. He had been in the dark before and now I was putting him back there, I could still hear his voice as he whispered those words in my ear, his tone full of such emotion, such love for me, that it was heavy and thick but still slipped from his mouth like velvet, the most beautiful sound;
'I'm nothing without you now, you are my life, the light in my darkness. Thank you.'
The memory of his words in my head was so clear, so perfect, that I hardly noticed when they continued.
‘Don’t... I love you...”
If it weren’t for that break in his voice, the slight waver in just the right place, I might not have realised he had spoken aloud.
My voice was rasping from the sudden dryness of my throat, grating sandpaper next to the silky smoothness of his own, and although my words were barely audible even to my own ears I knew he would hear every one.
‘I know. I love you too.’
The silence that followed was heavy and complete, yet cut through with his varying emotions, so strong I could almost feel them in the still air.
Finally I turned to him and forced my hollow dead eyes to find his. What I found there made the pain in my chest flare up once again and I dug my fingernails into my arm without feeling it.
His face gave nothing away, statuesque as ever in his perfection, yet behind his eyes swirled dozens of emotions.
Pain, confusion, frustration, but strongest of all was love. I was love that somehow made his hard eyes gentle as they battled hopelessly against my own, love that caused me to lose the air from my lungs once again and my own heart to feel as if it was trying to break its way out of my ribcage. And it was this love that made my decision so very very hard.
Suddenly his face took on a tortured expression and had he not leaned forward to brush a tear from my face with one cold gentle finger I doubt I would have even realised I was crying.
He stared for a second at the drop of moisture of his finger before balling his fist tightly and loosing it forever.
‘Don’t do this.’
His voice, so soft, so gentle, so pleading, was a beautiful deathly lullaby played on my heart.
How could I leave? But how could I not? Seeing for myself the affect I had on his life, the disruption I caused every day I was with him. Couldn’t he see I didn’t want to go?