Quietly, a Heart Beats
He thinks he smells roses- distant, fragrant, and sun bound- breaking through the silence of snow and ice; the scent hits him deep inside his heart and just like that, he hurts. It's too cold in this white wasteland. He's left shivering, longing for something warm, perhaps a smile through a window in the middle of summer.
His queen comes to his side, silent as the falling snow that surrounds them. Her lips are touching everywhere; brow and cheeks and nose and throat, everywhere except where he wants most- mouth left unclaimed, naked and cold- but the chills have passed. It's alright again, she's beautiful and she is his and he is hers, here where everything is perfect and silent and white.
You want to leave She is quiet, sad- the last flake of winter before spring wipes all beauty away.
No He says, touching her gently, afraid to break her – to melt her fragile heart. He presents her with the puzzle he's been building. It's yet unfinished, boxy and a little grotesque but he knows when it's complete it will be a thing of beauty. Do you see? I'm building forever for you.
Only she doesn't look as happy as he wishes she would- regards his trinket warily with diamond sharp eyes. You will never leave me, a queen's command.
He thinks of the roses, just for a moment - silken petals and stinging thorns. He imagines laughter, summer scented bright, and that had once been beautiful. Never. He returns to puzzle over forever; only he seems to be missing a piece and perhaps he's wrong, but it may have been shaped like a flower.