I don't own anything, not even my own house. Enjoy.

Ieme La Belle

Ieme la belle. Love is beautiful. Its a very odd thought isn't it? That an emotion, something without a physical form can be considered beautiful, yet, it is. Love makes the world seem more beautiful, more perfect. Love is beautiful. That's what the his watch says anyway, inscribed on the back. I found it in his bag. It is a very old pocket watch, handed down through the family from father to son. He was-is-so proud of it. I remember him telling me once about the story behind the inscription. How his great-great-grandfather had loved the inscription on the family pendant that his, Fitz's, great-great-grandmother wore, and so she gave him the watch with the inscription on the back. It will be right beside him when he wakes up. I hope he wakes up. He looks so pale. Please let him wake up. I miss him. But he looks so peaceful, just lying there. Almost as though he's asleep. I am so going to kill him when he wakes up. Why would he do that for me? Why? At least I have his monkey to remind me of him. I'll just put my book down for a sec and get forty winks.

I wake up to an odd sound. A sort of harsh grating, almost like a voice. A voice that said... My name. It said my name. I look around, rubbing sleep from my eyes. He's awake. I can't help but smile. He came back to me. I don't know whether to kill him or kiss him. But he's awake, and he remembers me. All is well.