"Please, Yannah. I know I don't deserve an ounce of your forgiveness, but please forgive me. Please... please..." The room was filled with Zlatan's sobs, crying his heart out as the tears never ceased to stop for even a second.
He was on his knees, his head pulsating and sending a sharp pain all over with each throb. To him, he deserved it more than anything and if he'd been sure it was her. Then bringing a blade along to take out his heartcore in return would have been a much better apology.
Yet the fact that she was dead, remained unchangeable. It was another chance to plead her forgiveness for what he'd done hundreds of years ago, and the worst thing was to fail.
'WHY!!!' The words replayed in his mind, the tears overflowing as all reserved ones seemed to now be in use also.
"I'm–I'm... I'm a monster." He stuttered, staring at his hands, the tears forming a puddle around him, after soaking up his pyjamas.