Speak

"I look forward to it"

The words wandered from John's lips to his tremoring hands as he gave her fingers a gentle goodbye squeeze- for once glad that her expression was veiled by his mask.

For a goodbye, he mused, it was the first which tasted like wet morning dew upon his tongue; and while the pain ached within his bones, it was also refreshing. No- invigorating that there was a soul he wished not to depart from- unlike every fleeting connection he had ever had the instance of creating.

When her hand retreated from his touch, a cold feeling oozed from the crevices of his fingerprints- and watching the carriage draw further and further down the lane, his eyes felt the same chill as her image receded from the imprint of his irises. As if she were a goddess of Spring, he could have sworn there was a winter shadow bubbling up from deep within the Earth. No; maybe, he mused, his grounds was simply being summoned back to the Underworld- in more ways than o