Divine

Chapter 2 - An Unforeseen Encounter

GREY

My hands reached for the small of their backs, clutching them as if they were going to disappear.

A tangible warmth spread across my body as we met each other. Like a moth drawn to a flame, like the waves rolling near shore, I was pulled, ushered, into their enveloping embrace.

It didn't take long for me to falter, nor was much needed.

Like a vessel filled to the brim, even the slightest vibration was enough to tip me over the edge. And I was already at my breaking point. The simple touch of her hand—a soothing caress—shook me like a seismic event. It was unstoppable, a force of nature that didn't abide by the laws of man. Inevitably, irredeemably, my emotions were sent spilling.

I cried, far longer than I'd care to admit. Hot, flowing tears—tears I didn't even know I had—trailed down my cheeks like a raging river. It came like a monsoon after decades of drought. A stream of salty pain fell recklessly and indiscriminately without precaution or care.

Every sob was a weight lifted; every wail a burden lessened. By the end, it felt like I was floating. As if the faintest gust or the gentlest wind could have carried me away, but in their presence, I was anchored, grounded. They were the only tether that kept me in place.

In the silence that followed, a kindred calm was left in the wake of our contact. A quiet catharsis hung above us like a conglomerate of clouds; their mellow compassion pervaded the atmosphere like a silent acknowledgment. An uncompromising absolution. Despite my pitiful and pleading display, they accepted me wordlessly, wholly and utterly, without requisite or requirement.

Their kindness didn't have to be earned. It was unconditional.

Within the confines of our delicate reunion, inside this dark, damp cave that seemed to swallow us whole, the dim light reflected off the walls and illuminated the polished metal of their armor, basking them in a gentle glow that made them look like a guiding beacon in the starry night.

Death had never felt so inviting. But at that moment, during our brief, fervent encounter, I was grateful to be alive again.

A pregnant pause permeated our space. The gap that separated us was insignificant.

And yet, I held on, afraid and hopeful at the same time.

Like the fine grains of sand in the Darven desert, it felt like they were slowly slipping away, falling through the cracks between my fingers with each passing second. No matter how hard I tried to catch and keep hold, they would get swept away and blown by the breeze, forever lost in the barren landscape.

My grip tightened as I inched closer, desperate to feel the warmth of another person. I burrowed myself between their shoulders as if seeking shelter from the elements.

The world ceased to exist beyond their frame. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down from a precipice at an endless void, a pitch-black chasm. I was falling into their arms, their depths. Here and now, nothing else mattered. It was only us, together in the darkness.

Ever since the day she left, I've spent every waking minute of my life listening to the sorrow, enduring it through eons of solitude. For so long, I've been holding on to her—to the hope that she was still out there somewhere, waiting for me to find her.

I never did. And the part of me that left with her was gone with the wind.

But this was not one of those moments. This was a moment of solace, empathy, relief. It was comfort, consolation. It was the start of salvation.