All I want, is for you to love me. Not because of what I can do or what I look like, or because I love you - just because I am.
All I want, is for you to love me. Not because of what I can do or what I look like, or because I love you - just because I am.
He reached forward then took me in his arms, held me close for a moment, the breath of snow and ashes cold around us. Then he kissed me, released me, and I took a deep breath of cold air, harsh with the scent of burning.
He wanted to laugh; the vision of her pounding that wee boy in a fury of berserk rage, hair flying in the wind and a look of blood in her eye, was one he would treasure.
If she was broken, she would slash him with her jagged edges, reckless as a drunkard with a shattered bottle.
This was nonsense, he thought. The need of her was a physical thing, like the thirsty of a sailor becalmed for weeks on the sea. He'd felt the need before, often, often, in their years apart. But why now? She was safe; he knew where she was - was it only the exhaustion of the past weeks and days, or perhaps the weakness of creeping age that made his bones ache, as though she had in fact been torn from his body, as God had made Eve from Adam's rib?
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories