I'm drinking again today. The liquor burns down my throat, pouring hot vengeance that tastes like hatred and ashes.
So, of course my thoughts turn to her. Long black hair that feels like silk. Weather coloured skin and eyes that shine with light blue fire.
Because as my mind clouds over and the pain floods my heart
She is the first thing that I think of.
And when I'm sober...
It's exactly the same thing.
I hate her.
And I love her.
It's insane. Sometimes I wish I'd never known her, never loved her, never felt the pain of losing her. Never felt the bliss of holding her in my arms, her tiny frame fitting perfectly within the circle of my embrace. The feel of her lips, crushed against mine in fevered passion. I can still taste her, feel her, smell her. Every part of her is embossed on my mind.
My mind belongs to her. Every memory worth remembering. Every moment worthy of reliving.
Most of the time, I imagine she's still here, voice raised as she argues with me. Her eyes bright and furious, lips and brow pinched together a tight line. Her cheeks would be red and splotchy, mottled with her passion and anger. I'd swoop her up for kiss and remember too late she wasn't really there.
Or sometimes she'd be curled into my side, a soft, contented smile on her face as we sat by the fireplace. She'd laugh and blush and call me a prat and I'd tease her and hold her close, forgetting that the truth was I'd never hold her again.
Always she is with me. I can't imagine life without her.
I grasp outwards with open palms, stretching, reaching, begging for her but there's no one to see my pleas. A twisted shout rips itself from my lips, my voice echoing off the walls, myself answering myself in rage.
Why didn't I stop her? Why couldn't I forget?
I couldn't save her.
I failed.
And now... I'm alone.
A/N: So, this was written for the Character Spotlight challenge in DAFFWG on FB. This is about Nathaniel and Ely in my other tales. However, it is not the actual ending.
Most likely.
I can never really decide, but this is most likely not the route that story is going to go. So, consider this me getting the sad stuff out so I can write them something happier.
Unless my muse changes my mind. If that happens, I'm sorry.
If you have time, I love to hear concrit! I don't write in first person often, so I'm not sure how this turned out! Thanks for reading!