Crack the shutters
… Your icy fingers run down my back, waking me from my slumber. How I've come to enjoy the freedom this place of eternal night has given us. Six months of waking, side-by-side, no cover, no stifling coffin, choking floorboards above me, the fresh crisp air and soft mattress the first joy my waking awareness recognises.A soft kiss finally brings my consciousness to the surface and I remember, it hits me, I sigh as the realisation of the reason for being here throws its full weight onto my shoulders.I smile, despite my feelings, as the first drip of warm blood splashes against my lips. My tongue flicks out, catching the steady drops of blood, allowing them to run down my throat as the colour rises in my cheeks.I look into your scarlet eyes and I see the pain in my heart reflected back at me from the depths of your soul. I watch your tears flowing down your pale cheeks, welling before they drip onto my waiting tongue. I reach to you, taking you in my arms, pulling you against my bare chest. Running my hands through your hair, black as night, I lift your face, holding it tenderly as I kiss your tears away.“I am sorry to do this, my love,” you whisper. Words will not come, I gaze into your eyes, I smile, letting you know that it will be OK, praying words are not needed...… You lay in my arms, staring into space. I remember, our life plays ...
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