The pain of the wards have returned several fold. Mental anguish to equal them burns my mind and heart. My brief respite is punished, my surcease from torment must be paid back in full.
And Rick is staring at me again. It is almost the same vista, a white tastless room - this Rick would not be harmed by a few lessons in style - him in a chrome chair, me in the bed. Maybe the rising darkness was just a dream? A nightmare? It could easily fit with the endless scenes that revel in my sleep...
"You're awake. Do you always go comatose after all them special effects, or is it them wards you're wearing that does you in?"
He's curious? Not angry, not upset... almost like enraged sorcerers loosing their powers is something he sees every day. How can he be so calm? How can his eyes be so empty? Where is his hate? where is his fear?
"Rick... I do not know what to say. I cannot apologise, I cannot ask for forgiveness. My apologies are worthless, and your forgiveness too great a gift to ask for... Now do you see what I am? Please, just let me leave, there is still time for you to escape."
Part of me would die if he said go. The ostracism would kill me. I failed. I let someone get close again. I let another David enter my life; how did he do it so quickly? Perhaps it is part of my curse. Perhaps it is balance, karme; only through longing could I feel the pain I deserve.
"Well, I'll remember you have very strong views about decorating in future." He's grinning! nearly lauging!
"You joke?! Are you completely insane!" No... the laughter doesn't touch his eyes - a mask, his face is a still mask to hold back his revulsion. "I see your empty eyes, Rick. I see a face schooled to stillness, an actor playing his part. Show me what you really feel, and let us end this charade before more people are hurt," I nearly choke, anger, grief? I don't know any more, "before more people are killed."
He drops his mask. I see his eyes. No hate, no loathing. No fear and revulsion. Soft tender eyes reflect kind sympathy and pity on me. Pity. Gods, how can they be so cruel. I have to turn away, I cannot see it, I cannot take that memory away with me.
He touches my arm. I turn angrily, how can he hurt me so much?! How can I be forced to suffer so much more? And he kisses me.
I'm utterly paralysed, body rigid. He kissed me. He's so soft, and gentle. A tender, almost chaste kiss, the barest touch of lips. So warm, so... I'm trembling faintly. His hands are on my back, pulling me gently into his arms. He doesn;t imprison me, doesn't trap me. Just holds me, so close. So very close. His heart beats againt mine, his hands stroke along my back, gently butterflies smoothing over my skin. I lie rigid and trembling in the warm shield of his arms, warmed and comforted by his soft kiss.
Something breaks inside me, I just fall against him, melt into him. I kiss him back, wild and desperate, hot and burning. I cling to him like a child, like a lover seeing his beloved leave for battle. My body melds into his, trying to push myself into him, get closer than is physically possible I want him. I can't fight him anymore. I can't fight myself. I can't leave him. I want him. I need him!
He is my last anchor in the storm.
He is my hope in the night.
He is my Spark in the Darkness.
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