He saw her from the bottom of the stairs before she saw him. She had nowhere to run and he knew it.. She was the oblivious blonde he had once grown to love. Once. Just once. She stood and overlooked the balcony. Stared out to the mountians, just as they had once done. Once, when they were in love. We wanted to stroke her hair back just once more time. Like when they talked about their future together: a large blue victorian house with rose bushes surounding it; a child, a boy or a girl, it didn't matter; a brick fireplace where she could cuddle up and read a book a night. Two lives, two hearts, two people. Becoming one. He took a silent step up the stairs. She told him that she fallen in love, once, and then kissed him. That a love like theirs only came around once in a lifetime. He took another step as he reached into his jacket. All it would take was one bullet. He wanted to see her eyes one last time. Her name came to his lips as she turned to him, startled. It was the last time she would ignore him. One finger, one gun, one broken heart. One bullet, one shot.