Cold, it's so cold. The darkness surrounding me, it's thick and heavy and cold; it's empty. Shadows dance across the ceiling above our bed, patterns drawn by stray traces of pale moonlight that creep through the curtain over the window pane. I watch them, my mind as blank as the white surface they twist and turn upon. Thoughts are useless to me now, I don't know if I have the will to form ideas anyway; all I can do is feel and breathe. That hurts almost as much as thinking does, I force my chest to rise as I take in the still air, pull in the oxygen my lungs desire and then push it out with a soft sigh. Every breath is heavy, slow to accomplish, and I feel my heart constrict within my breast whenever the air leaves my body. So cold, empty, and alone in here.
My hand strays across the rumpled sheets on the well-worn mattress, moving slowly to your side of the bed. Fingers tracing delicately over the place where your warm body once rested, beside me, but the sheets are icy in that spot now. I turn away from your abandoned place, facing the blackness of the room and listening to the faint whispers of the wind outside. My eyes burn, my heart clenches, and I tremble though my skin burns. It's only a matter of moments before the images begin to replay in my mind, unbidden, but they crawl from the corners of my mind and play out in vivid, torturous detail. I close my wet eyes, turning my face into the pillow as though I would shut out the visions, but they play on, heedless of my agony.
Your eyes, dark and full of emotion, those are my first memory. So many hours I spent looking into your ebony orbs, watching in rapt fascination as every feeling you had expressed itself in your gaze. No matter how you tried to hide it, no matter what defense you put up, I could always see through to your soul, I could see through your eyes. Those onyx pools that swelled with deeply submerged passions and dreams; I remember seeing them clouded with lust, desire, and even love. When will I look into those eyes again?
There is also a myriad of memories of your mouth, though some of them would bring a blush to my cheeks. You often smirked at me, the left corner of your lips twitching up in a teasing hint of a smile. I remember the times when your lips were drawn into depressed frowns, and frustrated grimaces. There are also detailed memories of the talent those luscious lips possessed, and your tongue! Kami only knows how many times you made me writhe under the assault of that twisting, flicking muscle. I can almost feel your mouth on mine now, here in the dark, I can feel the ghost of your kiss on my dry lips, yet it's only a shadow of what was and is no longer.
Aye, there are grand memories of the rest of you as well my love. Your hands tracing over the curves of my body, fingers brushing feather-light touches over my chest and abdomen, lightly dancing down to my member. Hard strokes and gentle squeezes; oh I remember the way you would pump me, always wanting me to finish first. I think you just liked feeling me all over your hand and stomach, or chest, and sometimes your face. You used to run your hands through my hair too. Your touch wasn't always gentle, I can recall some very rough nights, broken furniture, bruised bodies, and sometimes we dripped with white cream and crimson blood by the end of the night. We liked it violent though. I trace your mark on my throat and smile faintly at the memories of how often you touched me there, reminding me always that you and I were meant to be. The mark is faded again, the last touch to it having been so long ago, it's barely visible now. I wonder if yours is faded as well.
Perhaps my favorite memories, and maybe the hardest ones to bear, are the ones of our coupling. Every night we lay entwined with each other, bodies slick with sweat, pants shaking our muscled frames, and hips rolling in a frenzied haze of passion; all of them are separate and unique. Each second a treasured image kept within my soul. We danced to our own song my love, a rhythm of the night, the moon was our spotlight, our bed the dance floor, and you always swept me off my feet. I remember it well, arching beneath you, sighing against your mouth as you penetrated me over and over again. I could feel your heart beating in time with mine as we claimed one another in this very bed night after night.
Ah, and there were those few nights where I took control. You would look pleasantly surprised whenever I turned the tables; I didn't do it often because I know how much you always liked to be on top. The taste of your skin, of your essence, it's something I will never be able to forget. Rich, creamy, and a little sweet; I remember the taste well my love. Your scent is another thing that will never fade from my memory. A heavy musk, very masculine, and very SaiyaJin. Close to my own scent but more powerful, though I was the weaker of us so it's only logical you were more potent. I could never get enough of you, if I couldn't have you undulating beneath my body, then I had to cling to you as I was driven beyond the bounds of ecstasy in the middle of the night. Our howls and cries of climax were the sweetest sounds I've ever heard. I shudder at the thick silence surrounding me here in our room now.
My face is wet, my pillow soaked with a warm dampness. I've been sobbing through all my thoughts. My chest heaves and my heart feels as if it will burst within me. I've never felt such an empty, painful sorrow before; I can't begin to describe how hard it is to draw breath, how much it aches to feel my heart beat, and the agony of my thoughts never ceases. Sweet sorrow is something I do not believe in; this separation destroys me from the inside out. My bones burn for you, my skin longs for your touch, my lips desire your kisses, my heart yearns to beat with yours again, and my soul wails from the torment of this lonesome, dark division. I have never cried so much in my life, I always viewed it as a weakness, but we've shared tears, blood, sweat, and other things so many times that I begin to doubt my former beliefs. I don't know how I will survive this my love, it eats at me, this cold emptiness. You're alone as well, I wonder if you feel as lost as I?
I told you to be strong, to not let the pain consume you; yet here I lay, twisting and turning with my grief at the loss of you. Your presence is so far away, the faint shadows of your touch, the ghost of your visage, and the whisper of your voice are all I have to hold on to. When will you return to me? When will I look into those fiery orbs again? Will you come back at all? Am I to be left with the memory of your caress and the soft sounds of hushed words forever?
It's cold in here. I draw the blanket around my body, curling my tail about my waist for comfort, though it will never substitute for the secure feelings I had when it was your tail around me. I stare into the darkness with unseeing eyes, I am looking inward again, to my soul. That is where I hold you, where I feel our bond, faint and strained as it is. I will hold, I will be strong for you, I will not let this drive me mad. We are SaiyaJin, we will survive this and someday, you will lay beside me in this bed once more. I know that this is true, it has to be. It has to be.
