Standing in the hot steamy shower. The hot water scalds his grimy soul. Layers. Swirling down the drain. The air. Steamy. Muddled. Each breath searing. Gasping.
His mind. Chaos. Dark. Full of screams. Cacophony. Pitch getting louder. Rising to a peak. Breaking point. So near. Yet so far.
They needed a release. So did he.
She stood between the man she loved and the man who loved her, waiting for a sign. He read the confusion on her face and called out to her. She hesitated, looked the other way, then walked up to him. In that one moment everything changed. She always remembered his acceptance and he never forgot her reluctance.
She got back from work just before dawn broke. Odd timings came as a package deal of having a job she loved. The day had been particularly unforgiving. She had worked a twenty hour shift with an unfading smile on her face.
She unlocked the door as silently as she could, knowing the two men she loved, would be sleeping in peace. One of them met her as she entered, smiling and wagging his tail at the same time. She put her finger on lips, signalling him to be quite, then sat down to meet him. One hug from the old boy and she was already feeling better. Both of them walked in to the cooler section of the house.
She saw him sleep under the white sheets. The indigo light from the window was making his face glow. His breathing was soft and calm like he was far away in his sleep. She slipped out of her clothes and slipped in beside him. She felt his bare cold skin against hers calmed her soul down. He put his arm around her, still sleeping, now with a smile on his face. He moved comfortably into her space.
She had everything that made her life perfect right there. A content heart, arms that waited for her and the music of the heart she lived in coming from the chest she slept upon.
To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else’s heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.