Happy birthday Adi. I know this isn't what you requested, but it's where I'm at and I hope you enjoy it.

Happy short reading, friends, and thank-you for your support x.

Take Something Beautiful

He plucks the faded photograph from the book, carelessly tossed onto the chair. She usually hides it so well. Usually smiles without regret leaving everyone none the wiser. Today is not like other days, and today is not going to be either. She steps out from the bathroom, her shoulders uncharacteristically slouched, hair a mess. Henry meets her eyes, and her brows are drawn together, eyes slanted and dry tears marking her cheeks.

She's there again. At least what she pictures at the time. It's always different, a thousand different images, none of which she can be sure. He swallows thickly, meeting her eyes. He can't speak, his voice is stuck so he simply swallows again and extends his hand, meeting her in three long strides. She takes his hand, sliding her palm into his and falling into his arms. His hands are gentle around her small body, rubbing her back up to her shoulders and down again.

Elizabeth opens her eyes, staring piercing blue into his. A large hand cups her cheek and brushes a thumb over the tears, hot moisture pooling on the pad of his thumb as fresh ones fell. She closes her eyes again, and he leans in, placing his lips softly to each of her eyelids, then her forehead as though he could draw the images from her mind. But she will never forget. Not this time, nor the next. The feeling is bottomless, the feeling of falling and never reaching the end. Her stomach knots tightly, feeling like she'd swallowed a thousand burning feathers. Henry's touch is the only thing keeping her from dissolving at the moment.

Would it have been different if she were there instead of Will? She should've been there. Of course It would've been different. Henry knows what she's thinking. He's experienced the time of year almost as many times as she has.

Henry dips his nose, brushing it against her cheek, letting his own eyes flutter closed and kisses her softly. He can taste the salty moisture against her lips. Her tongue darts out to meet his quickly, and he agrees, kissing her back. His hands are pressing her close, keeping her body in contact with his. Skilled hands slide carefully under her slip, hooking around her panties and easing them over her hips. She kisses him harder now, her soft moans being absorbed into their heated embrace. She's cold, goosebumps are rising on her lean shoulders so he leaves her nightie on, guiding her slowly to their bed.

He's warming her body rapidly, her freezing cold hands roaming erratically over the muscular plains of his back. When he pushes inside for the first time, Elizabeth sobs loudly. She cries out for his touch, for his body, and it's all he can give her right now. She fastens her lips to his again, sucking him in, taking his tongue and drawing his heat. He pushes again, and this time her tears do fall. As he's cradling her face, he almost feels guilty for the pleasure. This is not for him, She feels it too. He sees her own guilt, and her body betrays her, shuddering and clenching, reaching for anything beyond inexorable grief. Both of their eyes are open now and Elizabeth is breathing hard. Every time he fills her, he reminds her that he belongs. That she belongs. She is not cold anymore, and her breathing develops into deep moans. Henry feels the intense vibration as his lips press against her throat. He squeezes her tighter, wringing every remainder from her body and mind as she shakes beneath him.

She's curled tight against his chest, the cotton of his shirt wet with her sorrow. Her sobs have eased and her breathing regular, but she's not asleep. He kisses her again, tells her that he loves her. She already knows, and nods her head, loosening his shirt balled in her fists. He's put her together again for this year. He knows that someday it might not be enough, but he tells her that she is always enough.

-o-

Take something beautiful and then go smash it

Take something young and proud and then shame it