(Karsten)
Once I exited my walk-in closet I found her sleeping peacefully in my bed, covered with my quilt and surrounded by the pillows. She had hoarded all of my pillows.
I stepped towards her, my hungry eyes just watching her peaceful sleeping face. Her mouth tilted open as she snored lightly, meaning she was extremely tired.
Her hair spread over the white pillowcase like molten lava flowing through the snow.
I wanted to reach out and touch them, to feel their softness against my fingertips but I had lost that right.
So I just stood there and stared at her for a few good minutes, drinking her innocence in, for my treacherous heart wanted her and only her.
The pain echoed all around me like it had become a permanent limb that incessantly ached.
Why did it fucking hurt so much?
Why couldn't I just collect her in my arms and let her softness take away this pain?
Smoke, I needed a cigarette to numb some of this agony which was tearing me apart.
