#mc is a dude tho

March 5th.

I asked Hudson to kill me today.

I hadn’t actually expected the words to leave my mouth, not for a while at least, it surprised both of us. I had been thinking about it for a while, it felt like the right time. He said no, of course. I’m not quite sure what I expected from him. Maybe I hoped he’d pull his gun out and end it all right then and there? I’m not sure. But if I hadn’t lived a second longer past that moment - sitting there with him, watching the sun slowly crest over the mountains, the sky a faint ombre of pink and tangerine - I would have been at peace. I would have called that somewhat of a good life, everything considered.

I guess I’m glad he didn’t, in the end. He worries about me. Too much, in my opinion. He’s only a killer by circumstance, he never would have done it. I guess that’s why I asked him and not someone like Thomas. Thomas probably wouldn’t have hesitated, would’ve slit my throat right after I asked and been done with it. He’s ruthless, doesn’t really care for anyone but himself, but he’s good with a knife and loyal to the cause, so he sticks around. He could easily make it on his own out there, everyone knows that, so we don’t push him too hard in case he decides to leave.

I keep thinking about the look on Hudson’s face. I don’t think I’ll be able to get that out of my head.