His Story

He awoke with a start, all covered in cold sweat. He looked beside him to check that she was still there. Much to his relief, she was very much there with him. He had half expected to find an empty depression beside him. He had just dreamt that she had died in an accident and left him behind, just after they had parted their ways promising each other to take care of themselves. How ironic was that, he mused.

Life was always like that, like a leprechaun out of a tasteless B-grade movie, never tiring of playing tricks on people, tripping them and making them fall. Time and time again it had happened, and he had hoped that it would never happen again. His cards didn't particularly lie very well with Mistress Luck. Maybe because he had sinned too much. Or maybe because he was in favour with Jinx. He had went to church again, for the first time in many years, just to pray to God that it would never ever happen again to them. He had hoped that God had listened to him, even for a teeny weeny bit. Even if God had ignored his other part of the prayer to deliver him to salvation.

He glanced at her away. Her silvery silhouette was outlined against the deep darkness, the gentle curves of her breasts falling with every breath she took. She looked so angelic, even in her sleep. She was the most beautiful thing that he had ever set his eyes upon. Peter might have disagree with him, for Peter was the connoisseur of women, having laid some of the best. But Peter was Peter, and he was him. They were two different poles apart considering that they were the best of friends. From the first day that he had set his eyes upon her, for the first time, he had felt what they called it love. The seed was first sown when he saw. And when he had conjured up enough courage to ask her out, the dates became the nourishment that the little seedling needed to flourish. Grew it so did and they were together in no time, consumed by their neverending passion.

He could almost hear the soft beats of her heart in the silence. She looked so fragile, sleeping in a foetal position. His heart ached for her, the dull throbbing of pain that somehow wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. Somehow, he had wished that he would have met her earlier so that things wouldn't have reach such a state. But some things in life were meant to be. He had learnt that lesson the hard way. Very hard way. And perhaps, that was God's way of making sure he appreciate her for who she was, and not what she was. Things aren't so shallow, he could hear God saying that. And God was right. He had to be. If not, He wouldn't be God, would He?

God had sent her to melt his heart. Just looking at her made him fuzzy all over. He had became a cynic after his last relationship. Not that he wasn't one to begin with. But when she entered the equation, she just messed up his whole defenses.

Now? Now he was with her. And that was all that mattered.

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Dedicated to Milady of the Tomes, she who holds the key to my heart.

Your servant
Aristocrat