Last Dance
His essence rises and surrounds me. A thousand drops of shimmering light. Gold, like his eyes.
They dance in the stale air, twisting and swirling into patterns that I feel I should recognize, but cannot. They are too foreign, or I am too tired. Perhaps neither. Perhaps both. If only I had been given more time to understand, perhaps I could see.
But Fate, it would seem, is an impatient mistress. She has grown tired of him, and turns her eyes toward another. Another to rouse her passion with their innocence, so easily taken. So easily shattered.
Will I be next?
I am caught up in their dance. They move and curl around my body, caressing my trembling limbs with equal parts fire and ice. I lose myself to their embrace, caught up in the arms of a lover whose face I have never seen. Whose touch brings a promise of passion that I have never known. Have never known, but yearn for more desperately with each passing moment, with each burning touch.
It is beautiful and terrifying. Dark and intoxicating. I shiver at their touch. Whether from pleasure or fear….
I find that it does not matter.
I dance.
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Bioward, Interplay, or the Baldur's Gate series other than copies of the games themselves and an overactive imagination. Thank you.
