A Lover's Quarrel

"That's it!" I exclaimed, picking up the exquisite set of blades that lay on the wooden table before me.
"No!" He screamed staggering forward in front of me, blocking my path.
"Get out of my way!" I said sternly, clenching the blades tightly and staring deeply into his brown innocent eyes.
"I can't let you leave." He said his voice faltering almost, the way that it does when someone is trying to make themselves believe that what they're saying is true. There was a time that I would've been like that, a time before the broken part of me would've tried talking myself into hoping but that was before the stone hard truth struck me; the truth  that you can't fix what can't be fixed and not being able to will just drive you insane. There will be no justice, not unless I make it and I planned to.
"He has to pay for what he has done to me otherwise the cycle will just continue. I need my justice, he needs to pay!" I exclaimed.
"And he will but not like this...never like this." He responded, his eyes pleading I could tell, I could always tell when he was pleading.
""Why won't you let me have my justice?" I asked, edging towards the small gap between him and the wall but he must've noticed because he stepped in my way.
"This isn't justice it's vengeance, it's murder!" He exclaimed.
"He'll still get punished." I pointed out, trying to edge towards the gap between him and table but he stepped in front of me again.
"It's still murder!" He snapped back at me. That word murder he spat at it as if poison, as if dirty filth as if he knew the meaning of the word, as if he would've known what it's like to see someone else's life like eyes grow strangely dim, soul escaping their body right before your eyes. Some things are just necessary, a killer like me would always understand that. How could I hope that someone not like me would?
"He won't stop." I said, somehow calmer now, on the verge of crying, craving the tears but they just wouldn't come.
"You can't go around killing people." He said.
"But.." I started to say.
"Please." He interrupted.
"Let me past." I said as calm as possible, a deathly calm, the only calm I had left in me.
"Please." He repeated.
"I'm a killer it's what I do." I muttered.
"Don't do this. There's another way, there is always another way." He urged. I made no answer.
"Just put the blades down please." He said. Once more I  made no answer, staring at the edge of the table.
"For me please." He said and within that moment I looked up into those soft brown eyes that were so filled with innocence. I would've given anything if not for those words for me please ; words that are dear, words that seem so real, especially from his lips. My only vulnerability, my only weakness, words that were enough to calm the fire of my rage. He knew me well.
"Just put the blades down." He said, his voice calm, no longer in contemplation in self belief of his words he'd just spoken  and just like that I placed the blades back on the table. Tears seemed to fill in his eyes but non of them fell. Not even once.
"I love you." He said, another phrase that eased me, another that softened the very depths of my heart.