Coffee and Cream

The Last Dance

EMRYS

The moon hung low over the terrace, casting a soft glow over everything, like a silent witness to the madness brewing inside me. Darcelle stood across from me, her silhouette outlined against the night sky, beautiful and fragile in her own way. I could see the way her body moved to the music, the subtle sway of her hips as the classical notes wrapped around us like an invisible force. We were high—on life, on death, on everything in between. But the buzz couldn't drown out the thoughts that had been plaguing me for days.

"Do you ever feel like..." I began, my voice barely audible above the music, "Like none of this matters? Like it's all just... a fucking game, and we're all playing along until we lose."

Darcelle turned to me, her eyes soft but filled with that intensity I'd come to crave. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of my confession pressing down on me, like a boulder threatening to crush me. "I've been thinking," I said, walking over to the edge of the terrace, my hand running along the railing. "About how easy it would be to just... end it."

Her breath hitched, and she stopped moving. I could feel her eyes on me, heavy and questioning, but I couldn't look at her. Not yet.

"I mean, look at this," I continued, gesturing to the endless ocean below us, the jagged rocks barely visible in the moonlight. "All it would take is one step. One fucking step and it's over. No more pretending. No more bullshit. Just peace."

The silence between us was suffocating like a noose tightening around my neck. I could hear her breathing and could almost feel her reaching out to me without moving a muscle.

"Emrys..." Her voice was soft, pleading like she was trying to pull me back from the brink. "Don't talk like that."

I turned to her, my eyes locking with hers, and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely exposed. "Why not?" I asked, my voice cracking. "You ever look at yourself, Darc? Really look at yourself. We're both fucked. There's no saving us. We're too far gone. And the worst part? I don't even care anymore."

Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, to tell me I was wrong, but she couldn't. Because she knew. She fucking knew.

"We've seen the edge," I said, stepping closer to her. "We've walked it. Danced on it. And every time, we get closer and closer to falling off. What's the point in pretending like we're not going to eventually take the plunge?"

"Emrys," she whispered, her eyes glistening with something that almost broke me. "You don't have to do this. We don't have to do this."

I laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. It was hollow, echoing in the space between us. "And what then? What do we do, Darcelle? Keep running? Keep pretending like this life means something? Like we're not living on borrowed time?"

She shook her head, stepping closer to me until she was right in front of me. "It does mean something. We mean something."

I reached out, cupping her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn't realized were falling. "You know what I love about you, Darc?" I whispered, my voice breaking. "You're like me. You don't fear death. Not anymore."

Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. "I don't."

"And that's why we're perfect for each other," I said, my forehead resting against hers. "Because we've already accepted it. We've already died, haven't we? Inside, we're already gone."

She stared at me, her lips trembling. "That's not true."

I pulled away, walking back to the edge, my hands gripping the cold metal railing as I stared down at the rocks below. "Maybe not for you. But for me? It's been true for a long time."

The ocean was calling, the pull of the water stronger than anything I'd ever felt. I'd fantasized about this moment for so long and wondered how it would feel to finally let go. To finally be free.

I turned to her, and the words fell out before I could stop them. "Would you jump with me?"

She blinked, her eyes widening as the weight of my question hit her. "Emrys..."

"I'm serious, Darc," I said, my voice raw, desperate. "Would you? If I asked you to step off the edge with me, would you do it?"

Her gaze flickered between me and the drop below us. She was scared, I could tell, but she wasn't scared of me. She was scared of how much she felt for me. Of how deep we'd fallen into this mess. But I saw something else too—something darker, something that mirrored my own thoughts. She wasn't afraid of dying either.

I stepped closer to her, taking her hand in mine, and whispered, "We've been running for long, Darc. Why not just... stop? Stop pretending like there's a way out of this that doesn't end in blood."

Her eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought she'd refuse. But then she nodded with a small, almost imperceptible movement. "Yes," she whispered. "If you asked me... I'd jump."

Something broke inside me at her words. Maybe it was a relief. Maybe it was sorrow. Maybe it was both. But at that moment, I knew. She was mine, and I was hers. We were each other's salvation and destruction, tied together in a bond that could only end one way.

I pulled her close, my lips brushing against hers like the wings of a bird in flight, soft and fleeting. "I love you," I whispered, the words tasting foreign on my tongue but true.

She smiled, tears spilling down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead to mine. "I love you too," she whispered, her voice breaking.

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the music still playing softly in the background. Our dance wasn't finished. Not yet. We had one last song to play and one last note to hit.

"Come on," I said, pulling her back from the edge. "Not tonight. But soon."

She nodded, her fingers intertwining with mine, and we walked back inside, the weight of what we'd just shared hanging heavy in the air. We were both broken, but for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel alone.

And for now, that was enough.