I Hold Two Fingers to My Head, Trigger My Thumb Out

I loved you so much during that experimental play when you slowly leant forward to nick your femeral artery, then quietly bled out in your seat until curtain core, blood only we saw. So this seems to be a couple who enjoy simulating various terrible deaths. Not an actual suicide, admittedly, but still, i think a warning at this point is right and proper. I say, pow. I slice my throat with a single stroke, pull an invisible blade vertically along my vein. Remember the deaths we did together, twiddling oven knobs in the air, then thrusting our chins to inhale.