Prompt: Nero, Author's Choice - Good Man Gone Bad
In Memoriam
Nero can still remember the color of her lips in the sunlight, despite going so long without both the sun and her. He still smell her skin in his dreams, so familiar from many mornings waking up and burying his head against her neck and inhaling her scent. He can remember the feel of her hair where it dragged across his skin as she moved above him, soft and feather light in contrast with ferocity and heat.
He clings, even as the tendrils of memory loosen and begin to pull away.
When he finally realizes that the memories are starting to fade, dimming as the months and years pass on and on, he is at first shocked, then wracked, wrecked, with guilt.
And then the rage blossoms, sharp and sweet and so much more present than she is now.
He feeds it with his frustrations and guilt and fury, and the rage grows with each memory that stutters in his mind, each lost moment, each day that he must turn to his few precious holos to remember the details of her, of their life.
And to that, he clings.