“I’m not sorry,” Damon grabs my arm forcing me to face him. We’re in the middle of a parking lot. It’s mostly empty except for a few cars, a truck and a van.

“For what Damon?” I ask, a cool wind blowing my blonde hair over my into my face.

Damon gently brushes my hair away from my eyes, “You know what Mia.”

I look away from Damon’s dark eyes, shaking my head slightly.

“Mia, I know you love me,” Damon mutters, “And I love you. This could be our last chance. Why don’t we just take it?”

I flash my eyes to Damon’s, “Because I don’t love you,” I feel tears spring into my eyes, “And I can’t be with you.”

Damon’s hand falls off my arm, “Don’t do this,” he whispers.

I take a deep breath, “I already have.”

I turn to walk away, holding back my tears so that Damon won’t see me crying.

He grabs my arm again, twirling me around to face him. We crash into each other our faces inches apart.

“Mia, I’m not sorry.”

Damon’s dark eyes are focused on mine. Drawing me in.

“What?” I mumble.

“I’m not sorry that knowing you has made me question everything in life. That just seeing you makes me feel alive. . .I’m not sorry that I’m in love with you.”

I feel a tear escape my eye, as a street lamp flickers in the distance.

“So only say no,” Damon whispers, “If you really don’t want to be with me.”

“I. . .”