Lust

Lust

Lust

I love you too.

Implied but never said.

There's no such thing as love at first sight. If only he'd known when he met her. The dead cannot love. Lovers cannot die.

When she calls his name. He came running like a lost puppy to its master. She touched his face and his knees gave out. I love you, she said. I need you, he said. They walked together hand-in-hand until his feet went cold. The sun set, and he waited.

The candle is lit.

When she welcomes him into her arms. He drifted to her like a moth to a flame. She wrapped her arms around him and his lungs faltered. I love you, she said. I need you, he said. They sat together in each other's arms until his fingers went numb. The clock ticked on, and he waited still.

The candle is burning.

When she pulls him close. He moved to her like a bloodhound on a trail. She put her lips to his and his blood froze. No words were necessary. They kissed each other until his lips turned blue. The rain fell faster and he waited still.

The wax is melting.

When she meets his eyes. He pressed to her like a leech to its host. She removed her bra and his brain died. I love you, she said. I want you, he said. They stripped each other until his skin grew pale. The moon is full. The time has come.

The wax is spilling.

As they lie together. She is more beautiful than he ever knew. What is beauty but a pretty face. The curve of her hip. The swell of her chest. Revealed in her true glory he has never seen her more alive. His heart skips a beat.

As they touch each other. Ever exploring, their eyes, hands, fingers, mouths, tongues. The heat of her touch leaves his body that much colder. The moist taste of her tongue leaves his mouth dry. The intensity of her stare bores into his unseeing eyes. His pulse begins to slow.

As they die together. Hold still, hold still. It's only for a moment. Let me have my moment. Be quiet, be quiet. It only hurts the first time. Let me have the first time.

He comes alive for the first time. He feels like he never has before. No more thought, no more words. There is only the need and the hunger. There is only the life that fades from their eyes. More, more, always wanting more.

You're killing me.

Mouths open, the silence is broken. The passion on her tongue, the air fleeing his lungs. Her body like liquid, his limbs like stone. Frozen in the moment, he completes her as she empties him. His heart stops.

The candle burns out.

As they rest together. Like a corpse he lies beside her, lifeless and unfeeling. He died with the moment as she took back the life she'd given. The love is no more. Rigor mortis sets in.

I love you, she says.

I love you too.

Implied but never said.

It's still not enough.

He lies on the bed frozen in death. He sees nothing, he says nothing, he feels nothing. He wonders where it went, the life he once had. How could he get it back?

He didn't love. It had never been love. It was the need. The hunger for life. She had shown the potential to let him feel alive. Now she had. The potential was gone. His heart was dead. There was no room for her.

He forces stiff limbs to move. He sits up from the bed. He forces blind eyes to see. He grasps for his clothing. He forces empty lungs to breathe. He whispers goodbye.

She's fast asleep. Never will she know what she's done for him. Never will she know how he felt for her, and how he hadn't felt for her. Never again will she know his voice. Never again will she know his face. He was now a ghost.

Lifeless, he wanders from the room. No trace, no sound. He was never real. Love was never real.

Post mortem. Now he knows. He resumes the search anew. Wandering, seeking, for a match to light the candle. A woman who could bring him back to life. For just one more night.