I sit here at the edge of my bed, watching the sunlight pour onto the dark hardwood floor. Behind me, the blonde man stirs in his sleep. I glance back to examine him. His bare back, scarred from years of battle and hatred. Long, golden hair let loose from its usual ponytail. Fair, resin-like, pale skin... He's as beautiful now as he was then. His shoulders broad and faintly bruised from the night before with teeth-marks and hand prints. Of course, my body was in the same condition.
I sigh, running my fingers through my dark red hair. God, I need a shave, I think to myself as I rise and pull on my trousers. I try to stay quiet as I creep over to the bathroom. I go about my daily routine, in the midst of shaving before I see pale, firm arms wrap around my slender waist. My torso tenses at the sight but calms down at the sound of familiar giggling.
"So jumpy today.." He mutters as he places small kisses along my shoulder blades. Chuckling, I continue shaving, glancing at him in the mirror.
"Annie comes home today." I retort, watching his slate eyes sadden slightly at the realization.
"When are you going to tell her?"
"I might not get the chance."
"If it comes up, will you take the chance?"
"Karl-" I put the razor down and turn around to face him, only to have him pull my face down towards his. He gently plants a kiss upon my lips, with lips as soft as his, I can't refuse. I feel his finger gently tangle in my hair as I slowly slide my hands down his bare back. He's warm. Much warmer than he had ever been all those years ago.
He parts and I move forward to embrace him again. Pulls away, but keeps at a... Teasing distance. So close, but so far away.
"What's wrong?" I murmur in his ear, holding him close by his waist. I can feel his nails dig into my back and slowly drag down.
"I topped last night.." He cranes his neck as I slowly trail kisses down his neck. "If I'm to go today, make it count.. It'll be a long time before we can do something like this again, Ginger." He smirks, letting his slate blue eyes slip closed. I can feel his skin heating up again, his cheeks flushed, just like the night before. He hasn't been human for very long.. I may have gotten him hooked. Not that I regret it. It's the best I've ever had. He told me he learned by watching human interaction. But I don't believe it. His hips naturally sway when he walks, the way his back arches, it's all natural. And he loves it. He certainly doesn't try to hide it, even behind his cheeky facade. Granted, merely a few days ago, he was made of hand-crafted resin, his features were... Perfect. Each and every curve, smooth, fair skin, silky golden hair... And his eyes. They were slate glass orbs staring back up into mine. They hid behind thick, blonde lashes and a large scar across the left side of his face.
I lift him up against the wall and his legs wrap around my hips by instinct. He's in briefs and nothing more. Strands of blonde hair hang in his face as he rests his head against my shoulder. We stay silent like this for a good few minutes before he kisses my ear.
"I'm sorry.." He's said that to no end ever since the tournament. He has everything to be sorry, but he doesn't seem to believe me when I tell him I forgive him. He believes he owes me so much, considering it was my doing that brought him back. His cheeky facade has long since faded now, in the privacy of indoors. His true emotion had only shown within these walls. And it was a beautiful display of emotion. I had never seen such sadness and thought it to be so beautiful. It was... Bittersweet. I had never seen a body so ragged. So torn. The way he shook in my arms, the way he gripped onto me for dear life, it hurt so much. I hadn't realized just how broken this boy was. I had never heard such emotional sobs of desperation.
I think back to the past few days that he had been here with me. The day I brought him home on a drunken night on the town. Finding out the next morning that it was him. Sitting in silence with him for the majority of the day. Finally breaking the silence by putting on the record player and asking him to dance. He was so hesitant, but he finally agreed. After a few moments of teaching him how to waltz, he was genuinely smiling. We were waltzing around the living room, I'd spin him gently and hold him close to me. Annie rarely danced with me. It was refreshing to have a dance partner who was willing to participate. I'd dip him backward, bring him back up and spin him a gentle circle and pull him close to me again, chest to chest. We danced the night away. I hadn't known how calm he could be, especially around me, what with his untimely demise in the tournament. We shared an entire bottle of wine the rest of the night, laughing, sharing stories, both good and bad. I finally understood why he was the way he was. And I didn't judge him anymore. He's a very smart boy. He played the violin. It was beautiful. The more he opened up, the more beautiful he became. I kissed him and he kissed me back willingly. It was pure and genuine.
And I've never felt more terrible.
"I want a divorce."
Annie freezea and stares at me from across the dinner table.
"What?" She sets her fork down and stares at me as if I had a third eye sprouting from my forehead. My gaze, however, never leaves the polished wooden table. My hands are folded in front of my mouth. I can feel the knot in my stomach tighten as the silence fills the dining room again.
"Why?" She finally manages to shove out of her throat. "Is it because of the money thing?"
"No Annie, it's not about the money. I stopped caring about that long ago."
"Then why?" I remain quiet. Her silence lingers as well. It's only now that she realizes my mistake. "... You're having an affair with me, aren't you." I feel my chest cringe under her words, showing my guilt. She looks down at her lap, fidgetting with her wedding ring. "Five years, Ginger.."
"It was only recent."
"It doesn't matter."
"I never said I wasn't wrong." My gaze shifts to meet hers. She's glaring at me through bitter tears.
"What about our daughter? She just turned four. Do you expect to just walk out of her life like that?" I sit up straight, staring her in the eye.
"I would never do that to her."
"Who is she?" I remain silent for a moment, before finally forcing out my words.
"It's not a she." Her face falls blank and emotionless, mine doing the same. "Annie, we met through a bank robbery."
"And you met through a murder." I feel my shoulders tense. She knows who it is. My mouth suddenly feels dry. I can't seem to force out any more words.
"I know I'm wrong."
"But you're right."
"Beg pardon?"
"You're right. Things have just gone downhill ever since the end of the tournament." Annie wipes her mouth with the napkin and places it on her dinner plate. She downs her glass of wine and stands, looking down at her wedding ring. "Five years is long enough." I sit there, staring at her in silence. She's taking this better than I thought she ever would. "The truth is, I've been doing the same."
"Having an affair?"
"Yes.."
"Well then.." I quietly sip my glass, finishing off the last bit of wine in the glass. "... If it's of any condolence, he holds no ill will toward you."
"That's a surprise, considering."
"I know.."
"I'm sorry, Annie."
"I am, too."
"I still love you."
"And I, you."
"I always will."
"I know."
"If we happen to cross paths again, what then?"
"... Then we start over."
