The candle flickered against her breath.. darting and ducking, rising back up tall then crouching down again. She felt its warmth against her soft glowing skin as shadows moved and danced across the walls. There was no sound other than of her own breathing.. and the small murmur of her still beating heart was more of a dull vibration.
Long blonde hair draped down the sides of her face. Hands rested across each other on the table, her painted pink nails shone boldly. Suddenly she felt a wet drop upon them.. and with her mind not being in the room as she began weeping gently, the wetness of that droplet took her quite by surprise.
The emptiness of the room was synonymous with how her heart felt, but there was more than that. More than just emptiness, if emptiness is a thing at all. What she was feeling right there that night was a vicious cocktail of all the longings of the heart and soul, something so deep.. So profound. So painful and aching within her very life source. It was like a gruesome roadkill she couldn’t bear to look at being locked in with her.
She needed some respite, and the bottle of red she had saved for the right occasion seemed appropriate – even if when she bought it she had envisioned the occasion to be a slightly happier one.
The glass was large and the wine slipped down like a medicine ball crashing into her tummy. Seconds turned into minutes into hours into oblivion. This escape plan had not worked at all, for now she lay heaped on the floor wailing loudly like a child into a cushion and feeling the pain even more intensely than before.
‘I didn’t want to fall for him. I shouldn’t have. I haven’t have I?? Really?? I literally have”
She was wailing so loudly she didn’t hear him knocking at first, and when she did she fell silent pretending not to be there. But his voice called out her name, she heard him. It sounded like heaven. The voice that belonged to the man she knew she should never talk to again.
So she let him in.