She teases the line of his torso, pale skin that edges the dark hair of his chest and belly. She has stopped trying to predict the flow and course of the future. In that moment, she has him. She had hopes, but she has begun to let go of them because month after month of blood would discourage anyone. Then the last few years. Who could have ever predicted all of that? She tried to let go of the feeling that she was being punished. When she was sat, alone and silent in an empty house, it proved nearly impossible. But with him beneath her fingertips, inside her mouth, all heat and sweat, and trembling, it is simple. She gave herself up long ago, knows how dangerous it is to love him with everything she is. It means she was lost when he went away. Now he has come for her and she is alive.