Beatrix circled
him, and stood behind him. She could feel the warmth rising off his skin, like
heat rising off a road in the summer. She could smell him, like sunlight and
blood, golden and rich.
“But- I want to
live forever too.” His voice was beautiful, soft as silk or the caress of
moonlight. It was heartbreaking to hear/It was like a knife in her heart.
She sighed. This
was the first goodbye, Beatrix realized. Only the first. “This is not living.”
Text by Lucie MacAulay
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