Devotion
She stands in front of the window, and he sees the patterns of frost on the glass, bordering the chasm between glimmering darkness and eternity.
The soft light falls on her, illuminating the eyes that draw him into the room.
The candle flickers on the table where it stands, the only light in a darkening room, and he is drowning in the essence of the moment.
In one swift moment, the distance between them is both indifferent and insignificant.
There is only her, and the scent of roses, and explosions of light and shimmering glass.
Afterwards.
She sleeps.
He doesn't.
A/N – Just a little something that popped into my mind after a mental drought of ideas recently.
Please tell me what you think. Reviews make me feel significant.
