Remnants: Dark *Anti* Romance Flash Fiction #2

 

Thunder broke the air around me. I was falling.

I woke up in a cellar, the smell of leaves burning my nose, my mind wiped clean, like someone had taken a memory vacuum and put it to my head, sucking out everything.

The cold punched me. I shivered.

dark romance flash fiction 2

He was there, stooped over me, his amber eyes cold and hollow, like someone had put the memory vacuum to his head too. I wanted to touch him but I resisted.

“There was an accident. The world is gone and it is just you and me.” His voice was low, trailing off like the end of a song.

But our dance was about to begin.

I stood and walked to the small window, pressing my forehead against the cold steel bars so I could see between them.

Smoke billowed upward around two trees and I stared and stared and stared until my eyes burned so bad I swore they were bleeding. Everything was devoid of color. Black and white.

Two birds screeched and swooped down, their wings flapping away the fog that surrounded them.

His bare feet scuffed the floor, the sounds of him getting closer. An arm around my waist told me something that should have startled me but didn’t: he touched me with too much ease to be a stranger. I liked it–liked his touch and liked that it didn’t startle me.

He hunted for me, fed me, bathed me with water heated from the fire. He covered me with a blanket and brushed my hair. He kissed me. He told me he loved me. Then he showed me what love meant.

He didn’t ask but he didn’t have to. My legs spread willing, eager, hungry, wanting him with an ache that could wake the demons. He entered me harsh, like a punishment. A punishment my body needed. The kind of punishment that teaches you how to be oh-so-bad all the time.

He promised me he wouldn’t leave, that not even the loveliest of angels could drag him away. And I believed him for a long time. But then that angel came in the form of a burning fever, bloodshot eyes, and a vacant stare. She wasn’t lovely at all, but he went with her anyway.

When you’ve spent eight years, four months, seven days, twelve hours and thirty-two minutes with someone you love, someone you need, someone you cannot live without, how do you say goodbye?

You don’t.

You only let the rain fall, each drop a wet eraser, smearing away the last remnants of all that you shared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Remnants,” dark flash fiction, Copyright 2016 Brittany Adams.