Cries
Their wedding night was beautiful, perfect, everything either of them could have ever dreamed of. Anna had been nervous, but John had been exceedingly gentle. They revealed their bodies to each other slowly; they'd waited years for this moment and there was no use in rushing through things. John could not believe how stunningly perfect she was, and Anna couldn't fathom how manly and strong her husband looked standing before her.
They found the be and each other's mouths, and they were lost in sensation. The pleasure built and built until all that could be heard in the room was the sounds of their soft lovemaking, and the cries of passion that fell from both their lips. As they held each other in the aftermath; their breathing labored and mingled as they kissed each other tenderly, neither of them thought their lives could be more complete than they were in that moment.
Suddenly John bolted upright in his hard bed; the smell of burning candles, and her body were replaced by the musky smell of wet air, mold, and sick. They surrounded him and brought him harshly away from his perfect dream back to reality. Anna wasn't here. It wasn't their wedding night. He was in prison for a crime he had not committed. Soon her cries of pleasure, still ringing in his ears, were drowned out by the sound of his own desperate cries of anguish.