memento mori

In all the darkness                        I came to thee, and found                                                     no arms outstretched.

needless to say we’ll be moving

this place is not entirely unfamiliar to her – the casual decor befitting the type of person that she knows him to be. yet she tries her best not to here in the confines of these walls more than she has to because the relationship between them is rather cut and dry. she uses him as a public cover so that she doesn’t have to get married to some half wit that might steal her chance of inheritance and that is supposed to be the end of that. no sex, no love, nothing but the knowledge that this benefited them both and that they would eventually end it. 

yet here it was a year later and they were still keeping up the charade – the same one that led her to haphazardly drop her heels off at the front door and walk right into the others kitchen. she knows where things are located because, despite her attempts, she’d been here more than she an count.  ❛ you’d think the paparazzi would get tired of following us after a while – we’re the ‘perfect’ couple after all  ❜ ironic laughter falls from her lips as she busies her hand in pouring the strongest liquor she can find into a glass filled half way with ice chips. 

Outside, the world seems dominated by the flashing camera lights of paparazzi, like lightning on a stormy night. It’s threatening and uncomfortable, but he has grown dull to it. Juliet attracts attention like a magnet, and when he had agreed to participate in her deal, he has also agreed to be part of this flashy, magazine-worthy lifestyle she sports with ease.

Charles meets her irony with a subtle ‘mhm’. Only half of what she has said has reached his conscious, the rest he has overheard.

And naturally, they end up in the kitchen. As always. Breaking yet another bottle of some cheap brand alcohol, though this one is not as old as the one they drank the last time. She has ignored his pleas that the expensive ones were only for important occasions and important guests and that Juliet was not.

Charles leans against the counter opposite to her and waits until a glass full of alcohol is handed over to him. Blue eyes embrace the amber color of the Brandy in his hands, and a sly smile creeps onto his lips at the mere thought of her drinking like a man once again.

“To us and to all the idiots that want to be just like us”, he says and raises his glass. Now it is his turn to make his words dance in irony. A laugh escapes his mouth.  The alcohol burns on the way down and Charles splutters like a child.

                      .        .         .                c r o s s r o a d s of time – akin to red strings of fate – bring souls together under the glistening blanket weaved by nyx. strings of sentences leave parted petals; a harmonious ballad the mortals will , in another lifetime , call a   m y t h. for darling !! who would think two hearts so strange, so queer, so terribly         p o l a r       would unite in this plane of time amongst so many other universes ?? fate has a whimsical way of working , and ours is yet to be written.