There was too much feeling. Only she saw, felt, how the pain and guilt and love, suppressed inside, had diluted itself and permeated his unfeeling skin-shell. He continued as always until the dust cloud of emotion was too dense, stinging his eyes with tears and choking him when he opened his mouth. And when this happened, he went looking for her.
She lay trapped between his warm, hot feeling, drops of desperation gathering on his pale forehead, and the frozen hard ground. Her fingernails dug into the unrelenting soil, cries of pain dying on her parted lips. She felt herself drowning in the sea of his anger, pain, sorrow, regret, pity—love.
The murky cloud was leaving him.
Thunder cracked the black sky as he moved away, his heart pounding burning relief through his body. She was still, quiet, eyes tightened against his discarded passions. Content that she would remain silent, he turned his own black eyes, still clouded with one feeling, to the star-pricked void above him. A dark haze, at length, dulled the points of light into blackness, and the rustle of rain disguised her ragged breaths. A drop soothed his burning brow with its soft chill. The rain mixed with his sweat, washing the salty fire away. His upturned face was pelted with the cool raindrops, splashing light across his white cheeks, his lashes glittering. His lips parted; he let his soul drown. An empty shell, an empty body, chest expanding with release. He spread his arms and his fine clothes were cleansed with the rest, heavy fabrics plastered to his skin, his shell.
And again he was empty, at last, emptier than ever before, only a vague satisfaction playing across his peaceful pace, as empty eyes blinked into empty heavens.
The rain stopped.
