AN: Yes, I know this is very short. Yes, I know I'm not quite as prolific lately as I have been in the past. Sadly, school has started for me, and I have little time. Don't worry, I have no plans to abandon anything I have started, and am in the process of several oneshots.
I intended this to go farther than it did, and to keep it soleley for myself, but this new, angsty ending appeared, and I had no choice but to heed its call.
"He woke in the night, crying out. But there were no nightmares, no images in his head. He wished for them--a picture of her, something in his mind instead of the emptiness. Even a horrifying image. Even a nightmare."
--Ecstasia, by Francesca Lia Block
She lies in wait, but he has not come in so many long nights. She holds her breath, wishful thinking overtaking other thoughts. Waitingwaitingwaiting. Wanting. Her fingers brush repeatedly between her legs, bringing little shocks of pleasure, but the fingers are not his. She abandons that particular task as quickly as she began it; it does not satisfy properly.
She licks her lips and whispers his name into the silent dark. He does not coincidentally appear. The sound of her voice cannot summon his presence, no matter how much she wishes it so.
The candles are still lit; she does not sleep yet. They flicker; they dance. Her hands glide up over her breasts. She is naked, bare. She waits.
Her heart aches--literally: It sits like a stone in her body , weighing down her swollen breasts, threatening to snap the bones of her ribcage under its brutal weight, undaunted by the fact that she lies on her back.
A bitter sob bites into the night--something she is not prepared for. Her cheeks are hot and wet.
He is not coming.
She catches it, stops it quickly, chokes it back.
He appears. She screams in a quick gasp. He laughs, and the sound, though cruel, soothes her.
Her heart does not lighten but swells, softens, and is forgotten--abandoned for other, more active areas. She arches back her neck: an offering. The heat of desire blooms on and in her body.
"Take me," she pleads, ragged and passionate as her sobs.
His reflective yellow eyes flash in the semidarkness; he turns and departs from the room.
Her heart takes the form of lead once more and sinks to the pit of her stomach like a stone.
The sobs tear.