(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

shimmering in the lights of the candle-globes that drift through my
sanctuary. I came here to gather my thoughts, to reflect on the past with an
eye toward the future, to cleanse my mind before the coming journey. Yet
concentration slips through my grasp like water through my fingers,
shattering as they fall until only shadows of happy memories remain.
My limbs tremble, too tired to stand on their own anymore. I embrace what
little of the cold tiled floor I feel through my cheek. Deep inside there is a
stirring in my breast, a hunger, poisonous like a serpent, biting into my heart,
until it feels as if my breast would burst, swelled with venom and brittle with
cold.
What did he mean?!
I replay the memory in my mind again, hoping for the hundredth time that I
would grow numb to it this time, at least a bit.
There was the warmth of his body, the harsh scent of his skin. A good
Sensate was always open to new experience, and when I put my mind to it I
found I could love that scent: acrid but scholarly, sharp but severe. His scent
was like a knife's edge sometimes, honed and piercing. It excited me.
"Only you. ONLY you," his words, no more than a whisper, echo in my mind a
hundred, a THOUSAND times.
All it took was a moment's hesitation on my part, and he peeled himself
away from me. The cold air rushed in, pebbling my skin and leaving me chill
and my spirit fragile, like glass.
I tremble at the memory of him leaving, the way his eyes stared coldly past
his shoulder, half-lidded in disappointment. He needed me and I had
hesitated at the brink of time's door. I tried to tell him that I was not afraid
to go, that I was afraid of being too weak, afraid I would stay...
I cursed my weakness then. If I should've been afraid of anything it should've
been of losing him: of feeling him pull away and leaving my flesh cold, of
letting his sharp scent fade into nothing, of losing the chilling rumble of his
voice or the taste of his lips. True terror struck me then, at the sight of him
turning his back to me and walking through the door, disappearing down the
hall before I could cry out for him and beg for forgiveness.
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