Perhaps

Perhaps it was fate that my life should end in such a way; the hands that once belonged to my glimmering light now only a memory that will stay forever stuck in a broken machine.

The now meaningless words that would reach my ears in the middle of a dark night, spoken only by the man who laid beside me, night after wretched night would only cause more pain if I reminded myself how they had blossomed inside of my chilled heart. Maybe it was destined for long, cold fingers to be cupping my pallid cheeks, completely drained of their milky complexion for the longest time to come.

The familiar scent of sweet honey and of succulent strawberries lingered on the man's steamy breath as he leaned in, simply toying with his prey.

"Don't play with your food."

The voice was strong and proud, and I almost had trouble realizing that it was my own.

A muffled chuckle bubbled up and escaped from the man's lips, my heart wrenching as his lips lingered against mine, brushing over them without a second thought.

Slowly, slowly, I felt my life begin to drain, every ounce of energy beginning torn away from my grappling hands.

I had always known it would end this way.

And maybe it was okay.