shredded LOVE letters
It was darker than the cloth that had been draped over his casket that noon, when clouds had swallowed the sun and cried tears salt-less and clear. She could hear the silence of his heart and the pounding of her own as she moved into the inky space. The closet was musty and she closed the door behind her, hearing the small click of the lock and the softness of her breathing. There was no light but all of it was shadow and she closed her eyes and saw him there, smiling, hand extended and fingers moving to brush against her cheek. She saw him whisper and her mouth twitched, wanting him to come closer but she did not want to stay- his hand drew to the side. She could not say anything, no apology or explanation, and her breath stopped in her throat as his pale hand caressed her face. Thin strands of gold covered his face but he glowed in the gloom and she could not tear her gaze away from his hungry stare. She opened her eyes and he shone brighter, eyes violet and deep and his lips bloodless as he moved to press them against her own.
"So how did you treat her in Paris?"
Duke smiled and let the phone move into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Serenity was no doubt on the internet, browsing through sites and images he mentioned in response to her endless questions. The first day back from their honeymoon travels, Serenity had held true to her promise of calling on them first. It had been a few days afterwards but she still found new questions to ask about the trip. Téa had received the call but had to go upstairs and now he was on the phone, forced to think of appropriate answers.
He grinned, reaching for the stack of mail on the table. "Well there was the Tower, and plenty of cafes for her caffeine addiction…and the hotel, but she must have filled you in on those details." He heard and saw the teenage girl past the miles of phone line in her room, giggling with a deep blush.
"And by the way, Joey still owes Téa that CD. That was the one thing she missed, her special mix."
"I think he lost it actually," Serenity laughed again and Duke could hear the swivel of a chair and opening of a door. "I can go ask him but he might be sleeping."
Duke shuffled through the letters, eyes skimming over the labels before setting them down to walk into the kitchen. His footsteps echoed in the house; it was quite large but filled since every corner had some box near it, waiting for unpacking. Téa had insisted that they figure out the interior designing themselves after he had, reluctantly, agreed to her ideas of color scheme but he knew that she simply was still in love with the house. New York rarely had such spacious houses with a location not too far from the city, and in Téa's case, her studio. Duke was content to arrive late to work and meetings but Téa insisted on being punctual and prepared ahead of time. Just like now; she had already decided to go find one of the boxes she claimed was important for the next time they had a friendly gathering but it had been several minutes and he was starting to get curious.
"Personally I wouldn't care if he was but Téa would. She wants everyone to be happy right now, even the most random people on the street," his voiced dropped a few notes lower as he ascended the stairs.
"You make it sound like that's a bad thing!"
"Well it wouldn't be if it was that easy to be all smiles every day," he sighed and adjusted the phone. "Sometimes it's hard to be that easy-going. And also I can't tell if she's really happy or just angry and covering it up."
"I think that's going to be more of your fault."
"Oh come on now-"
Duke let his phone slip into his hand and cocked his head. The door to their bedroom was slightly ajar and the smallest of sounds echoed from within. He pushed the door aside silently and caught sight of the closet door, which seemed to be shaking. He could hear heavy breathing as he approached it quietly.
"Duke?"
"I'll call you back Serenity, just a minute." He ended the call, tossed the phone on the bed and paused before twisting the doorknob.
It was then that he felt it, the coldness of the metal and the heat of his arm flow away into it as he froze, paralyzed, unable to think or breathe.
A voice, hushed and lonely was speaking through the door and he could feel the breathing in the cracks of the wall. His eyes watered and he saw someone beyond the wood but the shape was blurred and it morphed into blackness that sunk under his eyelids. His heart was beating faster but the blood was ceasing to flow and panic churned in his stomach. Then he saw a flash and brown wisps fluttered over his eyes and his hand burned from invisible flames. He instinctively tightened his grip and wrenched the door open.
Téa fell into his arms, quivering and her eyes wide, her lips mumbling words he could not comprehend. Her hands clutched at his shirt as he collapsed onto the floor, coughing harshly.
"Téa," he croaked, his vision fading as he tried to look at the girl's face. He fought to keep himself up but his head slammed against the floor. Téa let her grip on his shirt weaken and he saw tears on her cheeks before he fell unconscious.
The whiteness of the covers was tinted pink and the walls were washed in blue. Duke groaned and rubbed his face, his head heavy and eyes still tired. How much time had passed since- he gasped and pushed himself up, arms straining to hold up his weight. The room was spinning and he clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to fall down and not bother standing back up. Téa was no longer by his side; his legs trembled as he finally stood, swaying.
His black hair fell about his face as he groped for the door, unsure of any direction in the dizziness of his current state. He exhaled loudly as he moved to the staircase and scanned the lower floor. He immediately caught view of a girl whirling about in the entrance of one of the rooms.
"Téa!"
Why do you like this house?
It was an odd question but she did not mind; the club was filled with faces she did not recognize but she continued to dance, arms waving and head bobbing. The beat throbbed from the floor into her but above the noise, the voice of the man in front of her, his arms moving to circle her waist, was sharp and lucid. Colors flashed from the strobe lights and she swirled into them, her white skin sporting them as tattoos.
"It reminded me of Egypt."
It was true. The sandy color of the walls, the thick marble tiles, and the papery curtains- everything smelled of sand and heat and she was determined to make even the furniture she had selected fit the Egypt theme in mind.
Egypt itself? Or the people?
Her heart lurched and she remembered purple eyes and golden streaks and browned skin…that was all gone into a pillar of light, through doors she wished could have stayed closed so he could have stayed close to her.
"There was someone."
Who?
His eyes were just as bright she noted, his face inching dangerously close to her own, and the skin- was it possible to be that exact shade of brown? His hair was not as brightly yellow but it looked just like sand; her fingertips brushed against the wisps.
"He looked like you."
Be careful- you don't want to confuse us.
"I won't."
You better not. You know me better. I've been in you.
He had, she remembered, but she didn't know when or where or how. How could it be that he was still with her, matching her rapid pace, his steady strokes matching her gyrations, as if he knew how she was going to move? She twisted about, and pivoted, eyes flashing, never leaving the quick tempo both of them had set.
She shouldn't be taunting him, she reprimanded herself but it was so tempting. His lips were parted and beads of sweat slid down his neck and his torso was brushing against hers- she tilted her head back.
Don't you remember?
She did. She saw him with the others, whose faces she knew and memorized- someone who was misguided but now in their light. The one that had left her and her heart torn had freed him from the darkness that had engulfed his mind and now he talked casually with them, his siblings as quiet as ever whenever they gathered but smiles etched on their irises. Smiles for him-
She saw him, drink in hand, moody eyes glancing about as she asked about Egypt and life and then his curt, teasing answers with the eyes that bore into her. She had not let go of him, that Pharaoh, he was telling her, and she apologized for wasting his time by looking away. It was so hard not to love the memory of that man though and she bit her lip, her legs slowing, hoping to let it go once more.
Don't stop.
She looked up and he crashed down into her, his tongue pushing past her lips, his thumbs dipping under the waist of her skirt.
She shouldn't have asked him to show her the way out, she realized, mind reeling as his taste filled her mouth. She shouldn't have been so bold as to trust him, a stranger, when they, her friends, were there, coping as well- but had they loved that king? In the blind, aching way she and her heart had?
He didn't need the Pharaoh and she needed him so she found him in the night and as they drove, he talked willingly and she flirted, her lips pouting and eyes winking. He was the servant and she was the queen but in all the times he had hidden within her, trying to find a way to succeed without evil or light, and the times where he hid out of sight when the extended group laughed and joked together- he had never been this brave. He had pulled over and she had suffocated from his pressing fingers and nipping teeth and she found answers for everything right there.
He was the way out and so she clung to him and found the eyes and hair and skin but no mellowness- just overripe, sour, bitter love that found its way inside of her every pore so she was filled with intoxicated smoke and lust.
Why did you stop last time?
"You died."
She remembered him promising to pick her up and though the night was cold and taxis lined the walk, she knew he would take her away and under him to a place where there was no Pharaoh or forgiveness or trust or Egypt or Duke who confessed that he liked her but he did not taste of blood and wine.
But that answer key had crashed into black like the cloth on his casket and the sadness of his siblings and the faces of friends, now strangers, who stared in shock at the ground. She couldn't meet the questioning glances of people who saw paper skin and not the kind she wore that blistered and revealed scars. Only Duke kept his eyes on her so when she turned away, her face and the tears budding on her lashes were hidden by his embrace and gentle whispers.
"I love him."
No. You don't.
But she did. She hoped he didn't think she was lying every time she smiled, brimming with happiness because his sly kisses and innocent touches were so sincere that she hurt on the inside. He wasn't pointed but he wasn't dull- he was something else, someone who took life honestly with bite and he gritted his teeth and swore strange promises and he laughed with pain and cried with humor. She needed a drug but when the pain was neither dull nor cutting anymore, did she need Egypt's burning blood only skin away from hers?
Her skirt was gliding off her hips and her top was inching up and he had forced her against the wall where she could only feel cold brick and hot flesh. She opened her mouth and she let the words she wanted out, in.
"I love him Marik-" And he fell into her, passing through her and into the wall and away as the club and weird faces melted into light and home. She buckled onto her knees, hitting the cold marble floor but arms hid her face and the tears budding on her lashes were hidden by his embrace and gentle whispers.
"Duke?"
Her voice was so distant, it didn't matter if she spoke but she wanted to hear his name from her voice again and again. He was there, not a ghost that fought to drown her or a spirit that asked her to rise when she was tied down. His green eyes found her blue ones and yet there was no question.
"Téa, are you ok?" She tried not to blink so she wouldn't lose his face. It felt only as if moments had passed since she had fallen from the closet and now on the marble floor of the kitchen.
"I saw things- about you and me. I was in a club and I couldn't find you." He murmured.
Her throat tightened and so did her hold on his arms.
"And I can't even remember but so many things happened, and I saw everything that you saw and felt and I heard you so when I turned around-" he cradled her in his arms and she started to smile, "Téa?"
"Thank you for being real." Her tears dissolved and she blinked up at him.
He stared blankly before half-heartedly rolling his eyes and keeping a relieved sob from surfacing as she hugged him, arms tight around his neck.
A/N: This was written for -icyy-dragon-'s contest. The storyline to follow was "newlyweds buy a new house and discover it's haunted and have to deal." I was limited to a maximum of 5 pages; if I could write more, this would have had a lot more development and fleshing out. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed.