I’d be so good to you, you think, watching the flush spread over his skin. Heat beneath your fingertips.
You have loved him for a long time. An eternity, it feels like.
He met you for the first time today.
You would be so good to him, maybe. But that is not the same as being good for him.
Today is all you will take from him. Today is all you will give yourself.
I’d be so good to you, you think once more, cupping his cheek in your hand, bringing your face close to his.
When he kisses you, soft and sweet, you try to memorize everything about this moment:
The texture of his lips, and the puffs of his breathing. The way his hand comes up to cradle at the back of your neck. At one point, you both open your eyes at the same time and chuckle into each other’s mouths.
You love him so goddamn much.
… But I have to let you go.
There’s treasure hidden in this room.
Or that’s what she’d like you to think.
It’s crammed full with boxes and drawers and shelves, piled high against the walls. But they’ve encroached inward, invaded the clear, undefended flat lands–there is only enough space for the narrowest of pathways from the door to the center of the room.
Oh there’s treasure, perhaps, but only if you’re willing to mine for it.
It’s all you can do to focus on the sensations around you. The lining smooth against your skin, the smell of flowers cloying. Sunlight slants into the room, painted by stained glass windows.
It’s all you can do not to scream.
You blink, eyelids heavy, moisture collecting, accumulating, falling. You can’t look at him.
What’s left of him.
The two of you were going to break destiny.
And, in a way, you did.
The sky is bright and cloudless the day they bury his body in the ground.
You have your whole life in front of you now.
That should have been you in that coffin.