“Are you OK?” he hovered over her, catching his breath.
“I guess so,” she nodded, but was still unsure. She was floating somewhere else again, trying not to remember. She pulled his arm around his back, pushing him onto his back.
“Look who’s feisty tonight!” he grinned wickedly, reaching his arms to her waist.
“No,” she whispered quickly, sliding her body down his, holding his wrists secure as he yielded to her kisses. She sat upright quickly, and began turning away. He grabbed her hands quickly, holding her immobile. “Please don’t,” she looked away.
“What’s wrong?” he pleaded with her. “It’s alright.”
She looked at him, and noticed a small scar near his collar bone. “What is this?” she asked, running her fingers along the scar.
“As if you don’t remember,” he laughed and pulled her mouth to his. “Let me remind you.” As he assaulted her mouth, she glanced at the bedside candles, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. This would be the last time.
“What do you mean last time,” he whispered into her ear as she turned her head back to face him. “Honey, did you take your meds today?”
“Yes,” she held him closely. “But it’s happening again. They aren’t working,” she was panicking now, terrified. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.
“It’s ok. Just don’t think about it.”
This only enraged her more. He had sat there and watched and done nothing to stop his brothers. “I can’t stop,” she cried into his shoulder. “It’s not working!” She repeated this until she had fallen onto the floor, holding the mass of blankets as if for her life. He turned on her lamp and reached down to her slowly.
“Those children were bewitched,” he said, pulling her back onto the bed, kissing her.
“Please don’t,” she begged. “Do not tell me again.”
“I’m not. It’s okay. We don’t have to,” he cooed, as he started to soothe her hair. His phone alarm blared and he quickly silenced it.
“I must go,” he kissed her again, but he was already gone. He had already left again. Off to another conquest and the spoils that went with it. She couldn’t abide it. She wouldn’t allow it.
“Please don’t go,” she threw her arms around his neck.
“Honey, I’m sorry, but I have to go,” he started to get up, but she threw him back onto the bed, kissing him desperately. He had no idea how much she loved him; no idea how much she hated him. She pulled his dagger from its sheath and watched his eyes grow wide as he saw the candlelight reflected off the blade. “What are you doing,” he coughed, heaving as he tried to catch his breath while she forced herself onto him.
“I love you,” she sang, sinking the dagger into his chest, watching the blood stain his tunic, as she continued to make love to his body.
There was no blood, but she knew he was gone. “Goodbye.”
