He still remembers the first time they met, from the first moment Aesop always knew that that man, Victor, was more than a simple postman. He would dare to say that he was the only one worth knowing among the two participants except himself; His silence was somewhat attractive. so serene and the few times they managed to have a talk or exchange a few words... really, in such a short time that man managed to make Aesop feel at peace and calm. something that he himself thought impossible, but more than that, more than the mere comfort of his company, he realized that little by little that feeling was not a simple empathy, but rather an adoration. what the world called "love".
But who would say that that feeling that should provoke only the most beautiful thing in a person, would be derailed by his hands, just like the person he had never loved before like the embalmer was. Right now his hands were running over the naked body of his lover, longing with each touch for that moment to last forever, while the putrid aroma emanated from the body whose interior contents now lay out of place, scattered to a certain short distance covered with that hot crimson, the juice of life, still fresh. surrounded by vases of beautiful white roses like canvases, stained with the same reddish tone. Aesop appreciated that, before his sick eyes, a beautiful sight; whether it was that look lost in the eternal void or, that already pale skin that was light in color that once had, perhaps even, the perfect shape of his thin and fine body. of whom he was jealous of his bone structure. whatever one or maybe all and more reasons. The truth is, the only thing that mattered to him was hisshameless love for him, so much so that not even having him alive was enough. provoking the selfish act of taking his life in the name of the love he swears to him. That profane admirer and lover recognized no limits in order to demonstrate his appreciation. after all the rest wouldn't understand it.
They wouldn't understand his extreme way of loving.
With Victor's corpse still in a "fresh" state, Aesop held him by the waist with his left hand, while with his right hand he intertwined his fingers with those of his lover, the deep, raw cuts on the deceased's neck made his trachea was visible and could barely support the weight of the head which was tilted to one side. The embalmer ran his wet tongue over the destroyed neck. With the intention of tasting that liquid, he did so, putting it in his mouth and enjoying that metal flavor. — my beloved Victor, I hope you can find compassion within your heart for my sinful actions. — he took the pale face almost detached from the cold lifeless body between both of his hands, a smile appearing on the face of this crazed lover, the moment that he longed for for a long time is about to happen, causing genuine happiness in his heart. — please, let me show you how much I love you... let me taste your sweet lips. — without thinking twice, the lips of both men, the living and the dead, joined together, thus forming a kiss, proof of the bloody love between them.