I do not own Labyrinth.
I'm still not use to this new keyboard we have. I've tried to catch all the mistakes.
In The Moment
It wasn't hard to understand at all; it was the acceptance that was hard. How can you possibly accept losing the love of your life because of your mortality? Or, in this certain, special case, your lack of mortality?
He watched as she sat cross-legged on her small bed, in her small apartment. Her long hair, dark as the night, was haphazardly pinned up at the back of her head, but there were the few shorter, stubborn layers framing her beautiful face. Those lovely eyes were no longer throwing the usual mystery and seduction Tonight, mixed in the the silvery-gray and green, unshed tears clung desperately to her eyes, refusing to fall.
"Come now," He said, reaching out to her, but she was deathly still. He snaked his hand around the back of her neck, cradling her head, "Tonight is not a night for sorrow," He whispered, hating himself for lying to her.
Tilting her head up to him, she trails her finger down the side of his face, along the line of his jaw. Her voice breaks, "I'll always love you."
He kissed her then, made love to her small frame, and as he watched her drift into a restless sleep, the decision made itself.
..::xXx::..
It is two years to the day, he notes with a sort melancholy satisfaction.
He lets himself in to her small apartment. It is the same small apartment as it always was, and she is sitting in the same cross-legged position on the same small bed. Her attire, appearance, mood; it is all exactly the same.
And as he reaches for her, she is still. As he snakes his arm around the back of her neck, the familiar sensation of the shivers going down his spine returns, when she casts him the same weary glance that she always does.
She tilts her head, trails her finger. Voice breaks. "I'll always love you."
He sighs sullenly with the same morbid guilt as always. "I'll always love you, Sarah. Always."
Do you understand what he did?