How I longed for his touch once more, to feel his rough fingertips caress my skin as he moved his hands over my naked body. He had been my everything, my reason for breathing, my reason for living day to day in the lonely white world. I had continued on, for no other reason than to feel him love me again, to feel his lips on mine and his body becoming overcome in the pleasure of the flesh. But now he was gone and I was all alone, suffering in the cold with the lack of his warmth.
I knew I had no one to blame but myself for his leaving me here. I had wanted too much from him, more than he could give me even if he never left my side. I had wanted everything of him, his body, his heart, his mind, even his soul. I'd asked for too much, so much more than he could give, and now I had nothing. I was left with nothing more than memories of all the nights we had spent together in that bed, with his heat consuming me. I was left with nothing, but the memory of the warmth of his touch.
I glanced away from the white powder covered world to the shiny silver object in my hands. It was beautiful, in it's deadly glory, oh so beautiful. I knew I could replace his warmth with this object, replace his touch with the cold sharp feel of it gliding across my skin. I could substitute the warmth of the red liquid that flowed through my veins for the lost warmth of his touch. I could bathe myself in warm red blood so that I would no longer need his touch, even if I would still be all alone.
Slowly, I drew the tip of the blade across my thigh, shivering at it's icy coldness before the warmth of a thin line of crimson began to bead and then trickle across my pale skin. I closed my eyes, my mind replacing the blood with the feel of his tongue as it had traversed the same line, sending shivers of pleasure through my spine. There was no pain in the action, only the delight at the feel of the warmth over my chilled flesh, the flesh that ached for heat. Yes, just like this I would erase my loneliness and erase my ache for his passionate embrace.
As if in a trance, I traced the tip of the blade along my other thigh, just as I remembered the way his hands hand always done. Then it moved over my hip, tracing the places where his hands always rested when we would kiss, our tongues moving over each other in long battles for dominance that he always won. Warmth was spreading across my skin now in more than just tiny rivers, sending tingles of remembered touches along my skin. Oh how I revelled in that feeling of warmth, my mind starting to lose touch with reality, forgetting that I was all alone.
I was completely gone, lost fully in my memories as I continued to drag the sharp blade over my skin. The metal had become his mouth, my blood the warmth his touch had always left behind in it's wake. Lines began to criss cross my body, the hot crimson liquid pouring over my skin as I dragged the blade higher and higher. As the blade's tip crossed over the side of my neck and my blood rushed forth in a manner much more forceful than before, I let my arm fall to my side, the blade dropping with a noisy clank to the floor. I closed my eyes softly, a smile splayed across my lips, no longer feeling cold and alone as my body was covered in warmth.
Just before my consciousness slipped away, just before his ghostly memory left my skin, I swore I heard the door open. I could have sworn I heard someone call my name, heard someone gasp in horror, felt someone put their hands to the side of my neck where the blood flowed freely with every beat of my slowing heart. The voice was panicking, pleading for me to hold on, but it wasn't in me to listen. The warmth of the man I had loved had left me and I was quickly growing colder.
"Kryn!" the voice called and I felt the now dull sting of fingers across my cheek. I let my eye flutter open to see who would dare disturb my blissful reminiscence of the man I loved and the warmth of his touch. My weak smile grew slightly wider as I recognized those blue eyes that reminded me of how the lake looked when he was frozen over. The icy blue orbs that hid the truth of the warmth the man could bring. "What have you done to yourself, love? C'mon, stay with me please!" he pleaded even as my eyes closed again.
"I love you, Dante," I murmured as the darkness began to creep in. Darker than the back of my eyelids, darker than a moonless night. It was the dark of nothingness where neither light nor sound could reach me. I wouldn't be cold anymore. I wouldn't be alone again. Simply because, I would no longer be.