It happened only a day ago.
You and Vriska were sitting together at a park, you your gaze was lost in her eyes. She was your girlfriend, and you absolutely didn't care what anyone thought of her. Sure, her hair was black and matted, and she carried around the 'I hate everyone bitch move out of the way' attitude, but she was an angel at heart, you knew.
"I have the lance, you know." she murmured to you, causing you to tilt your head.
"What lance?" you asked, frowning lightly.
"From killing Tavros." she muttered.
"Oh yeah, that. Didn't the police let you go?"
"Yeah, but it was only because my mom paid the bill or whatever."
"Bail." you corrected.
"Uh-huh. Anyway, I have that lance I used."
"Is it still coated in blood?"
"Red as ever." she mused. "I...miss him."
"You shouldn't have killed him, then."
"Can't take it back." she lied on the grass, staring at the sky absentmindedly.
"You have me, though." you chuckled lightly.
"Yes, I have you, ___. But you aren't Tavros."
"You and Tavros were in an abusive relationship, this isn't."
"I miss the abuse." you muttered.
"Uhm...you can abuse me..." you said awkwardly.
"No. I need Tavros."
"No you don't."
"Yes I do. He told me that he would be brave one day. He said even if he had to die for it..."
"Ouch." you bit your lip, laying next to Vriska.
"Yeah, whatever. It's funny, the police said that they didn't care, they'd be back for me in two months with a death penalty."
She hadn't told you that before. You gulped awkwardly, staring at her worriedly. "How long has it been, exactly?" you croaked, feeling shivers run laps across you.
"One month and twenty-nine days." she hissed.
"I..." you started whimpering, your lips quivering out of worry. "You're an angel Vriska, death doesn't need you."
"But I need death." she said, standing up with a sigh. "Don't bother following me, I don't want to hurt you. I'll see you in heaven. ...If I get there."
"Vriska, no." you grabbed her arm, shaking your head violently. "No, no, no! You're an angel, I swear. My precious angel!"
"Yes." she hissed, swatting you away, continuing walking away from you.
You restlessly chased after her. Your girl. Your precious angel. You chased her all the way to her house, into her room, seeing her grab the lance and stab herself through the heart, you screeching the entire time. Your precious angel was dead. Gone. Zip, no lives, not returning in a weird afterlife sense, not movie plot fake death, not-coming-back-for-the-sequel, dead.
You couldn't save her.
Your precious, precious angel.