I.

It is noon. My windows are foggy and the lights bleed together like a painting. Noon. My clock states it is around one, but I am not certain because it might have been eleven. My sight might have failed me because I wasn't paying attention to the time. All I know was that it was noon because of the light outside. And the sounds. Even from here you can hear the busy streets.

I am on top of you. You.

Just you.

This is my favorite part of us. The part wherein we've regained control of our bodies. Now that I've tasted kissed nibbled fucked you, everything cleared up. The world resumes.

Do you know what it is like every time? When I see you, I go blind. My thought processes are addled and I am consumed by all these sensations of you. I want to touch you, to keep on touching you, to grasp your body to lick it, love it, to wrap my arms around it and squeeze tighter tighter never let you go. It's all I want to do for the next hour or so, and once I get rid of that hunger, once my mind resumes we are at this point. Point B.

Point A being fucking each other allowing each other to be led by the sense of touch.

I kiss your forehead. It is still damp from our earlier excursion. You smile. I nuzzle your neck. Your nipples graze my chest as you move and I feel them stiffen. Your brown hair smells good. Flowers and perfume. My gaze travels to your mouth.

"You have a pretty mouth," I say and you laugh.

You hold my face in your hands. You hold my aorta my ventricles my veins my arteries. You hold my eyes my mouth my bones. You hold everything of me and you don't even know it.

"So do you," you say.

We kiss. Not the kind of hungry, heavy breathing, tongues out kiss we usually do when we're at Point A. It's a different kiss, a tamer one. But I enjoy it, too. I enjoy every kind of kiss as long as you're the one who's kissing me. You own my tongue my teeth my face just say it all you have to do is ask all you have to do is give life to the ghost of question that follows us everywhere.

All you have to do is ask, Kathryn. And you don't even have to say 'please'.

Our mouths separate. But we don't. Not now not ever.

You look at me, stroking my face my hair my heart.

"Don't ever leave me," you tell me.

"Why would I?" I reply.

You smile again. You press your lips against my earlobe. Your breath is warm, your body warmer.

"You'll always be inside me," you whisper. You bite my ear gently, chuckling when you feel me shudder.

Footsteps. Loud. Clacking, that infernal rhythm of heels. Then, that voice. That infernal voice. Closer. Closer.

Your mother.

"Fuck," you swear.

Knocking. Opening the door.

Your eyes are wide, imploring. If I could I would wrap you in my arms and you would be a part of me you could hide inside me the way I've hidden inside you over and over again. So you will really always be inside me.

I pull the sheets over us just as the door opens.

You tremble.

"Have you seen Kathryn?" Your mother's cross voice cuts into our world and it bleeds just a little when you breathe in sharply.
"No," I reply. "Please fuck off now, can't you see I'm busy?"

Tiffany harrumphs and slams the door and you only regain your color when we are once again met by the silence. We're still under the covers. We grin like little children who had gotten away with a prank.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi," you reply.

Then, you're on top.

Your gentle weight on top of me provides more warmth and comfort than any blanket in the world. You run your finger down the bridge of my nose before kissing the tip.

You pull the covers up again, creating a makeshift house. Our house.

"Thank you," you punctuate it with a kiss.

Now it's my turn. To touch your face, to hold it in my hands, to try to hold everything of you and keep it with me forever.

"You know you're safe with me," I tell you.

"I know, Sebastian."

You smile.

"What else do you know?"

You frowns, deep in thought. "What else?"

"Yes,"

"How about I know that I am never going to let you go?" you claw my chest and I wince.

Then you grin again and we laugh like children like new lovers who are just on the edge of exploring each other's bodies. You tell me this will last.

II.

Christmas.

We are yelling at each other.

Things come up, things we promised we'd never mention ever again.

Coke.

Annette.

Court

Cecile.

Old accusations. And new ones, too.

You are shaking screaming throwing things at me.

I am ducking and screaming back. I don't throw anything at you because you might seriously get hurt.

This is how our love is. It is loud and frightening, it is the sort of love that grabs you and slams you into walls covered with broken glass. I used to like it, but now I don't. After a while it gets tiring.

Accusations are fired like guns and the words the bullets riddle our bodies. Holes in you. Holes in me. You are close to crying. I can see it, only you don't want me to see it so I pretend not to.

"Please," I say. "it didn't mean anything. You were gone and it just happened. I was drunk."

Your anger is like a chainsaw. You are a chainsaw. You slice me open and mince my guts. You scream until your face is red until your tears come out and I feel like shit what am I supposed to do, Kathryn? I'm sorry god I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry.

"I did it, too." You have taken a shotgun and shot me at close range. "I've been doing it for years."

The flying objects stop. The world stops. We look at each other.

And the pain. Unlike any other. For years? For years?

"Who?" I ask.

You shake your head. "It doesn't matter,"

"It fucking matters, Kathryn." The shotgun that is your mouth still smokes; it is still hot to touch. It enjoys blood spattered me. Blood spattered Sebastian. "Who were they?

You look at me.

Sadly.

You look at me.

Eyes shining wetly.

Who are you?

"Just one," you tell me. "I've been fucking him for a while now."

I would have preferred a long list.

Who are you?

"Come here," I say. I approach you, stepping on your broken things. "We can… we can fix…"

My hands are numb I think maybe if you let me touch you I still wouldn't feel you. The sentences die in my mouth, all the encouraging words, the we'll be okays, the I'm sorrys, the please don't do this, the we can get past this.

"I'm tired, Sebastian," you sit on your bed.

"So am I,"

Holes in our bodies we bleed our guts out until we are incapable of feeling.

"It's over," your words like a knife. You are a murderer, but then, so am I.

"It is, isn't it?"

We take the guns and knives out and we proceed to murder each other.

Die. Just die.

Goodbye.

III.

Years later.

Years and years and years.

Time events people bury the past.

You look at me and you smile the same smile.

"How do I look?" You purr, twirling.

You are a flash of white. A blur, a vision. Like one of those things religious people experience when they hallucinate and delude themselves into thinking they've seen a saint.

Only I don't delude myself. I don't hallucinate.

I just see you.

Only you.

"Beautiful," I say. I kiss your cheek.

Then you aren't there anymore.

And I'm standing up.

And the music starts. The door opens and you glide in.

In a perfect world I would have grabbed you. Slapped you. Resurrected your dead heart to pump blood for me again.

Just me.

But instead I'm smiling until my face cracks.

"Isn't your sister beautiful?" The man next to me whispered.

And I say.

"Yes.

Yes, she is."

A gust of wind somehow manages to enter the church and everyone involuntarily shivers. Except for me.

All I feel is your warm weight. It comforts me. It also keeps me from leaving. I wouldn't want to do that to you. This is your day, remember? That's why there will be no dramatic outbursts. I promise, Kathryn. I promise I'll behave.

An eternity later.

"I do," you say.

Your bouquet is decorated with my insides my entrails my heart is in the middle and then

you throw it.

It lands into the waiting hands of one of your bridesmaids.

The blood drips from the flowers.


A/N: Hurrah I am still here, how is everybody doing these days? :) Sorry if there are any typos, I'm too lazy to recheck em.