Shrinking Universe: Paint Nothing

Sometimes, she thought to herself, the line between reality and dreams gets terribly blurred. She supposed now was one of those times. Reaching out, she discovered that he was lying next to her - she could feel him, so he couldn't be a figment of her imagination...again. She wasn't pretending he was there this time. But then, how could he be? The dead do not return to us. She had to presume he had never died in the first place. Or rather, as the case was, the second or third place. Did she care? Perhaps not, for her want of him overpowered all desires to find reality again. This was heaven, but not in the traditional floating manner. This was an intense heaven, where passion flowed not only through veins but through the very fabric of being, through the air where it crackled and sparked emotions long lost and forgotten in so many attempts to regain sanity.

She could not understand why he wanted her. Of her him, there was no question. It was everything about him that she loved, not just his eyes or his hair - although she did adore his hair, sleek and black, deathly black against the pale skin of her hands. As if he were flawless, and she some broken puppet that he attempted to mend. From that she found some small amusement, for it was he that had broken her. Perhaps it showed his redemption, that he had mended her, for he took back his actions of malicious intent and replaced them with sensual pleasures that entranced and enveloped her in their folds of his embrace, where she lay nightly in this land of eternal dreams.

Maybe this was heaven, for what dreams await us after death promise our innermost desires...and she knew hers to be him. Oh, how she did so desire him, every part of him around and on and inside and with her, always with her wherever they may go and no matter what happened. It was love, of that she was sure. Love tumbling over itself in attempts to be forever entwined, always locked in embrace and clasping onto each other for hope and sanity in a land of unknowns.

He whispered her name then, blissful breaking of silence's icy touch, and she glanced at his perfection and smiled.

"You're awake," she replied. A small smile, twisting of rosy lips across ivory complexion, and soft, hissing intake of breath.

"I was never asleep," revealed he, as his hands ran deftly up to her shoulders and cupped around her cheeks, pulling her in for the barest of kisses crookedly on her lips and retreating, parted slightly, while his eyes fluttered from closed to open in their own entrancing ballet of love and of lust and of feelings open. She felt safe then, safer than ever before, and knew thus - she was truly awake.

"Are you real?" A small chuckle, escape of warm breath onto chilled, lightly freckled skin, and a shiver in response to contact.

"When have I not been, my dearest angel?" Memories stirred and she frowned at times of betrayal, lies to one another and loss of love.

"Before..."

"...that was then. Now, in this time of love, when have I been a figment of your imagination? I have always been here, and I shall always be here. Just like the sun will always rise as the moon disappears, see their understanding, dearest, and know that my love for you is not finite. It loops over and over in its everlasting spiral of eternity and is strong, stronger than any other emotion."

"Why?"

"Because love is the purest of emotions. Without love, we have nothing else. No beauty, no truth, no freedom. Without love, where would hatred lie? We would not be capable of opinion, of feeling for one another. I would not be here. Love is magical, dearest and sweetest of all the angels, and it forms bonds, unbreakable bonds. Your love for me was stronger than any other, and without it I would never have returned and learned to love again, learned to be with you. You taught me love. I never knew love before...when I was..."

A pause. More memories began a slow waltz, and painted soft featherings of emotion amongst his pale features.

"You don't have to think about that. We're here, this is now. I believe you - I know you are real. I never doubted you. I doubt only myself, myself and what I believe. Never do I doubt, though, my love for you. It is eternal, and I shall never lose my grip on it. It is my lifeline, my hold onto sanity and reality and I cannot live without it, I shall not live without it." He smiled then, and kissed her, silencing words that need not be spoken and had more meaning than could ever be articulated.

"Do you remember?" asked he, waking her from a sweet reverie of devotion with a brief combining of sound into vowels and syllables and musical words. "Do you remember where we are?" She nodded.

"Home. We are home, here in this castle."

"The castle of my ancestors."

"Of your ancestors, and of magic itself, that which we know." She smiled. It was indeed, a heavenly place.

"They cannot find us here."

"No, not in our haven."

"I will not let them." He trailed kisses down her jawbone and rested his head on her breasts, closing his eyes to the soft rhythm of her breath, rising up and down in a contented pulse. "I will never let them take you from me."

She ran her hands through his hair, and sighed. Her movements ripped through him and sent warm waves of emotion through each corner of his body. She felt tension ease from her body and was free, hampered only by her remembrance of their chains, their chains from other and the people around them. They isolated themselves from others now, for they did not understand, could not comprehend their love. They could not understand...since they would not understand. She could not understand how they could ignore the omnipotence of feeling and replace the feelings of their hearts with the prejudice and flawed logic of their minds. Silence froze the water of their discontent with society and each began to float delicately into the arms of Morpheus.

"I'll never let them get to you, Tom."