With a chest pierced through by the frigid yet still familiarly warm hand of the other, crimson blood gushes out directly from the heart. One dies completely enveloped within his beloved's arms. It's not a matter of pity or regret or false pride, not even mortal despair, but rather that a wholehearted acceptance of their inevitable yet forlorn destinies. The other just couldn't submit himself into it.

Definitely the beautiful tragedy that I'm gonna fangirl for throughout eternity. >.<
My frantic fangirlism strikes again; bear with me a little more, please. ^^

I'm planning on re-reading TB, actually.