Dreaming of a Dead Man:
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Skulduggery Pleasant characters.
His hands are like chalk, pale and slender. I am the blackboard. He marks me, makes me his own, with caresses soft as silence, tracing words and pictures on my skin.
His eyes are bottomless and I feel myself falling. I have fallen into other loves, loves where I tumbled and hit the ground with a thud, but with him I fall as lightly as a feather, drifting gently and inevitably into his waiting arms.
His mouth has no expression, it is a book without words, but I read it all the same. I feel his nonexistent smile like sunlight, warming me more than mere expression ever could.
His heart is long gone, but I feel it beat in perfect harmony with mine, our beats echoing one another's to the point where we cannot tell whose came first. They cannot be separated and thus remain in this eternal duet, beating in time to our love.
When he looks at me, his skull fixed upon my face, I see his past, years of pain and anguish. But when we kiss, I feel our future, filled with love and light and laughter, blowing away the shadows. His heart does not beat and where once were lips to kiss he now has only bone, but he is all I need. We are bound together, two parts of the same entity, united forever. I am a living, breathing girl, but my heart and dreams lie here, in the arms of a dead man.