As they lie down the sun is setting and bathes the room in a fascinating orange. But instead of brighting the spirits it highlights the dark and melancholy figures that are deprived of all their colours.
As his fingers follow the soft contours of her face she saviors every touch and tries to remember the sparks of electricity that she used to feel with every little sensation. But her body lies there still and his hands remain cold.
The realisation hits her with such a force, a single warm tear rolls down her cheek.
And she doesn't understand.
She doesn't want to understand.
Because she fears she has always known, been always aware of the pitying look in her friends' eyes, has always seen it in his hesitant smile, and always felt it in her bones. But that nightmare of theirs was always dressed like a daydream. Filled with laughter and false greatness. The heavy chain around her neck made of fools gold and the deep red gown she wore just a costume.
The testimony of a striving for forever, driven by foolishness and blindness.
His hand falls away and his eyes are empty except for the unshed tears in them. And they know, this is their last night of forever.
Closing his eyes and and finding a clam she could never muster, he whispers:
"Nothing should last this long."
And finally:
"Thank you for being my queen."
And so they lie there, holding each other for hours. Until the sun rises again and their colours return. And their parting is forever, because some things should be.
