I wrote this in 2016 but I didn't publish it. The plots been done before but I'm a total sucker for them, you know? So I don't think it necessarily matters.
It's a leg shifting beside me that wakes me up. I open my eyes and look to the owner of the leg. Her eyes closed and lips open. I listen to her breathing, I can feel her body heat beside mine, a welcome bit of warmth in my usually cold body.
She looks vulnerable under my gaze. The big bad monster, kidnapper, rapist. It's only a matter of time before she's corrupted too. She's already feeling the stirrings of the Underworld. Shadows of vengeful people trying to get into her soul. I hear her crying when she hopes I'm not listening. Only when she sleeps does she finally look happy. The first time I laid awake and looked at her sleeping like this was on our wedding night. Back then her red cheeks soaked in tears made the air unbreathable. I felt suffocated by her sadness. Even now it's the only thing I can smell, taste, think about. She looked miserable, and it's my undoing to know that I had caused it. Now, she begs for my touch in the darkness, where she can't see anything but I can see everything.
I used to wish for the chance to touch her. To feel her soft, smooth, skin under mine as she stroked my hair, . Or after lovemaking we would lie awake together and whisper words of devotion to each other. It is only me awake, only me that lies here murmuring my love for her. She sleeps on as I tell her how much I love her. I am truly a hopeless romantic. How foolish was I to think she would ever love me back? My feelings aren't reciprocated. The cool Underworld doesn't feel even pity for the softhearted.
She has been asleep for hours, yet there is still a slight blush to her cheeks from our union. My queen is very passionate about a lot of things. of course she would retain the physical shadow of the last thing she did. I love her, and though our relationship is mostly physical, there are moments of emotional intimacy. Those moments are far too few and between for my liking. My shy little bud has blossomed into a rose. A rose that does not need any help from her husband. This can't be what my eternity is like.