She reaches home in the late of night. It is 1am.
Climbing up the stairs to the apartment, a stray grey cat strokes its long tail against her leg. She shudders at the contact. Unlocking the door quietly, she slips into the shadow of the place she calls home and closes the door. She stands still for a moment, listening to the slight buzz of the television set in the bedroom; the rhythmic drip of the tap in the kitchen. Breaking out of her trance, she shrugs off her coat and hangs it on the rack.
She knows he is in the room. She hears him close the book he was reading and move across the bed, the rustling of the sheets. He bends down and removes the socks that keep him warm in her absence, and pulls off the thin shirt he dons. Climbing back into bed, he closes his eyes. The television drones on softly.
Placing her watch on the top of the drawer, she walks into their room. Stopping for a moment when she sees the sight beheld in front of her, she sighs softly, and moves towards the edge of the bed. Sitting down, she removes her boots and warms her cold feet with her cold fingers. Eyes lingering on the television, she moves to the dressing table, where a picture of him and her lay. Removing the heart locket that decorates her long, pale neck, she next struggles a little to remove her ring. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she unbuttons her dress, and shrugs off the straps. She notices how horrid she looks, the dark circle under her eyes that are hidden by the makeup. She reveals them as she wipes away the foundation with a small piece of paper. The television croons.
Sipping a cup of water that lies on her dresser, she next makes her way to the bed they share. Relishing the warmth of the comforter for a while, she reaches down and pulls off the black bra she wears. Covering her face with her hands, she wraps them around her shoulders, rubbing her back slowly. She curls up in a fetal position, head buried between her knees. The small flower tattoo on her spine seems to glow in the moonlight shining from the curtains. She turns to look at her sleeping man, but he starts to move and she immediately gets up from the bed, moving towards the window. His eyes do not open.
She pushes down the black stockings she wears, throwing them aside. With a lone tear streaming down her cheek, she starts to tug at the pins that hold her golden hair up. Her gaze focuses on something distant outside the window, and a second tear joins the first. Moving towards her dresser once again, she continues to remove the pins, while looking at herself in the mirror. She lets out a silent scream in frustration as a pin stays tangled in her locks, and tears continue to stream down her face. The television is visible as she looks into the mirror.
Finally, she makes her way to the bed. Crawling slowly into it, she tries hard not to wake him up, and a gap separates the two bodies. Reaching out, she turns off the lamp, killing the yellow glow that illuminated the room slightly. The program on the television ends, and the screen fades to black. She curls up in a fetal position and hugs her pillow. Her eyes lay open, thin body shivering under the sheets. Sleep does not come.
Beside her, his eyes open.