This was the end

I remember the day it ended. He lay down on the beach, looking at magnificence all around him. The dark clouds hung over him menacingly, the wind rushing the sand out of the area, as if it was being evacuated. He looked up, and he saw me coming towards him. He smiled a faint, uneasy smile, his lips curved towards the left, but straight at the right. A billion year era was coming to an end, when I wanted it to continue so bad. I offered to hide him away. After all, it was my world. No, my universe. He refused my help. He said that he should end where he had begun.
We spoke about everything we did, about everything we could have done. All the wars he had fought, from Alexander to Hitler to Bush, all the inventions he had made, all the people he had killed, the jokes, the laughter, the grief, everything boiled down to this one last moment. He told me he understood, he told me he was sorry in a strange, nostalgic, melancholic kind of way. I knew it was time, and I felt his presence, I drank him in, one last time.
The waters rushed through, the tide had been crossed a long time ago. When he knew of his fate, he had tried to repair the damage, he had made an attempt to find himself. The ocean gathered momentum. Not the waves, not a tsunami, but an ocean. A giant wall of water, it reached the heavens. It surrounded him, a wall of blue-black, and he saw his reflection upon it, how disfigured he had become. He stared at the image of himself for a second, and then it engulfed him. I saw it from above, the death of genius. Just before it happened, I thought he looked up at me with the same odd curvature of the lips. But it didn't matter anymore. He was gone.
It was now my turn to sit on the beach, and observe the beauty of a world about to end. The stars shone through the clouds, there were so many of them, they were ready to come to me, to finish off what remained. A bright light drowned the others, it lasted for a second, but it was enough. The world was gone.