In all of the world, there is over 16 billion people. Many, many people to meet, to love, to leave, and some never to know. Out of all these people, I met him...
The back of his head is the last thing I see before my eyes roll back, whatever I'd shot up earlier was working its way through my veins and was making me grin maniacally.
It was like a sad sunset. Orange turning pale into an insufferable and damaged white. He'd need it cut again, the locks swooped down with a hopeful chance of growing further faster. That hope would be gone when he came home. He'd sit down, hand me the shabby razor and make my hands sheer at his scalp till it was red and look like the vessels would break at any moment. Redder than his beautiful fiery locks.
Sometimes I hate to see the locks go. It was color to his pale demeanor, sometimes they promised to love and warm me instead of scorching my skin with burns and bruises and blisters. Other times, well, you know...
The curls that were longer around his ears were the softest and I'd fiddle with them after he'd finish with me and collapse on the other side of the bed. He'd leave me to clean myself and would roll to his side, refusing to see me. He pretended to be asleep, I knew, but he didn't know that I knew. I let him think I was ignorant, just to have this small bliss. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed it as well. Almost unconsciously, his head would nudge further until he was back on me, but his head would be on my lap and soft snores would radiate from his big and sinewy body. It was one of the nights he didn't dream, he didn't shout, and he didn't wake.
It was bliss.
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Ashes and Cinders
Teen FictionEverything went up in flames in the end. Her bliss, his dreams, they're connection. It was all smothered by the choking grey ashes that had fallen from the sky after the fire began. It's still there, roaring and searing at the edges, just waiting to...
