There was a time, long ago, that she thought of frequently. When everything was quiet, there was a lot of time for remembering.
She thought of the times when they had still been gloriously, wonderfully, flaming red. She remembered the times that they had lain together, so blissfully, and he had stroked her raven mane as she had dozed in his arms. She remembered him singing to her as he did so, his low voice rumbling in his chest. She remembered how she had loved not only the words, but the feeling of the sound; the gentle vibrations of his vocal chords could be felt, just as surely as the beat of his heart, with her head on his chest. She remembered how calming it had been to be so physically close to him, to feel and smell and see and hear him all around her. It had been a truly wonderful time in her life.
She remembered a special night. She remembered sleeping atop him, fingers entwined with his as she was held close to his chest. She remembered him singing, the low thrumming in his chest gentle against her face. She remembered him stroking her hair as she fell asleep. And she remembered a sudden stab of excruciating pain in her ears. But that was not possible; she must've been dreaming. She was with him, wrapped up in him, held close by him. She knew that she was safe, because she could feel and smell and see and…
She could not hear him.
The agonizing pain piercing her ears was real, and the warm liquid running from her ears was real, and the frantic movements of his lips as she looked at his shadowy face were horribly, nauseatingly, real.
He cupped her face and they sat up. She felt him wipe the fluid from her chin and realized that it was her own blood. She began to cry.
And then…
Well, she didn't like remembering what happened after that.
But now, after it had been only a memory for so, so long, there were nights that she found her way into his arms once more, and he stroked her raven mane as she dozed. His lips didn't part. But she was able to still feel his arms around her and smell his scent and see his black sleeves, and against her cheek, she could feel the deep thrumming in his core that she had known long ago. Even though she couldn't hear it, and he couldn't say it, her love was still singing her to sleep.