Areion

It could be said that something was made real. But, in reality, as unreal as it is, it was not. It was morphed into resemblance of texture…of feeling.

She realized that the shadows of hers, were not those of others’. They were uniquely, beautifully secret. And not to be confused with anything wonderful, or perhaps beautiful. No, these were morbid in their glutton need for knowledge.

It comes as no surprise that they knew everything. They knew, but never told. Selfish as they were, they captured you. You were their prisoner. And we think, very foolishly, that we own them, that they are our prisoners. They know better. We are their prisoners. We never leave them, not in pain or in pleasure. Not even in darkness.

And she wondered as she lay. Would they whisper, these shadows, would they laugh at her? Would they hide their invisible mouths behind their hands and snicker at her? She watched as they arose behind the shattered wall, their forms made deformed and then perfect again. Would they ever stop knowing?

Her breath entered her body and left it in slow rhythm. Her naked breast rose to kiss the cold, damp air above her. And when the coldness was chased away by his awaiting mouth, she pleaded softly, so only they, those traitorous shadows could hear.

‘Please, please…Don’t tell… Don’t tell anyone.’

They said nothing in return. They cast their hollow eyes on her and mocked her.

‘See. We can do everything you can.’ They taunted.

She cried as she was filled. She looked away, no longer able to bare the truth. Her body was simultaneously full of terror and acceptance. Pain was no longer there. Only once, and that was the first time.

His grunts filled her ears. His whispered threats only made her moan. And the shadows laughed at her.

She relaxed. She knew. It was alright. They would not tell. They already knew that no one would listen.

She smiled up at him, and gently kissed his mouth. He looked startled for a fraction, but then returned it.

She wondered how such a beautiful creature could have the eyes of evil sewn into him. Those emeralds were her home though, and with all the evil they brought her comfort. And this cold hardness underneath her was her marriage bed. And this darkness that only allowed the shadows… and him, was her world.

It would be prudent to say that such things were not of sound mind. That she had lost her sense of right and real, a time between a lonely childhood and a pretentious adulthood.

But she was sure. This feeling. Warm and alive, like a worm, wiggling inside her body, was beautiful. And no shadows, and their whispers of mind and wrong were ever going to take this feeling away from her. Only he, who should have such a name, so silly in it’s meaning, yet terrifying in sound, could have that… not right…opportunity? to take it all away from her.

With her final ecstatic whimper and his shuttering moan, did they curl together to where there was no beginning of one or ending of another. He stroked her hair, she closed her eyes. She matched her breathing to his own. Closer still.

“When it’s all over. I will take you to a movie. Do you know what that means? Of course you wouldn’t.” He chuckled. “It’s a date.” He stopped smiling. “ I never asked anyone, but you do know what a date means, right?” He looked down at her, she rolled her eyes. He smiled ones more. “We will be together, and no more war, no more war, no more war…” His eyes closed slightly, his voice grew quieter, but his chant continued.

She drew a finger down his cheek. He stopped his chant, and looked at her again. They were alone again. There were no more people, and no more war. Just them.

Note from Author
I was thinking of making this longer, but then when I reread it. It seemed to end right there. The two characters I had in mind when writing, might not be the ones you might have had. I think the male is obvious, Harry Potter, and female, my ever beloved, Millicent Bulstrode. I love to use her in my fiction, because I don’t feel guilty when I make her into whatever I want her to be. J.K. Rowling, never defined this character, so I’m not really…changing her, I’m just giving her a bit of personality. I was looking at pictures of Equus, and Daniel Radcliffe, just looked dark, and I wanted that in this story. I don’t believe I succeeded. Oh well.