Salazar Slytherin's suicide note

The blond-haired man frowned, took the long letter in his hand and stuffed it into the envelope, fascinated by the last scribbled handwriting.The urgency between the lines made him feel anxious.His crisp hand finally trembled slightly, as if holding a fragile wine glass, gently resting on the edge of the letter.

His deep blue eyes hid unexplainable feelings, staring at the dark red handwriting that was formed by coagulation of fresh blood.They are flying, spliced ​​together in sight, and combined to form one section after another, proud and elegant.

It seems that after repeated consideration, he finally didn't throw it into the burning fireplace. Instead, the man put it in his arms and pressed it against his chest, together with his pocket watch.The taut spring of the pocket watch trembled, like someone's heartbeat.He had never noticed this before.

A white figure came from outside the door.That is his wife.

She pecked him lightly on the cheek, and the man couldn't help but want to dodge, even if only briefly.

The woman asked cautiously, "What happened?"

"Nothing," he replied, and murmured to himself.

It's nothing.

The author has something to say:

Following this epilogue may make the story more complete.

Maybe it's a less-than-bad ending.