Warmth
In the darkness of her room, Lucille lay barely shivering beneath the sapphire sheets, her breath billowing into a fine mist. She stared over the decorative pillow, on which lay her moth, at the dark oak dresser as she fought to stay awake. No matter that her body wanted to, she couldn't fall asleep not when Thomas had promised to come back, to warm her up. He had yet to reopen her bedroom door, to climb in beside her, to hold her as he always did. Some of the bigger rats must have frozen to death because an awful smell of rot had started to filter up to her room. Why hadn't Thomas cleaned them up yet ? It was one of his only jobs and yet he was likely putting it off to make more toys.
Lucille was wrong, if one were to sweep away completely the drifts of snow from the foot of the grand staircase one would find two bodies. The first and closest to the stairs Edith frozen to death, seemingly peaceful, the second and farthest, Thomas. Thomas who lay on the floor, his eyes frozen open in surprise, a small trail of blood that marred the pale skin the only indication that his skull had shattered via an impact with the heavy banister. All because of one misplaced step when he'd made to check Edith. The rats had taken their fill of the two, most noticeably Edith's right cheek eaten down to the bone and Thomas's left eye, which had gone missing. Of course, the rats had only further sped the decomposition and smell by defecating on them.
Lucille had seen and refused to believe, instead retreating into her room and her mind to cope. She told herself that Thomas had promised to return because he never broke his promises. Willfully forgot that any time involving Edith had happened so that she could say Thomas was merely working on the excavator plans...again. A broken hum echoed through chapped lips as she clutched the soft black velvet moth that Thomas had made her to her chest. It still smelled vaguely like him, a subtle warmth and smokiness. Eventually, her mind wandered and she found herself running through the forest with Thomas, laughing, clasping his hand as they twirled.
Thomas pulled her into a moonlit clearing, his sapphire eyes alight as he kissed her before they dimmed and he smiled sadly. She blinked confused when he started pulling away, when his form suddenly shimmered into that of a snow-white butterfly. The butterfly that'd been Thomas flew up into the moonlight and she stared desperately after him as his warmth faded, as the light disappeared. Ever she waited for him to return or for something to happen to her. Nothing happened, no one came. She was alone, without even her moth, in the darkened forest, forever.