The Story of Blood and Roses

"I really wish I could make you stay—entice you into going to the shooting range, or participating in a bike race. I don't know. I have nothing to hold you back."

"I don't even know myself. When I do, I will come back. I just need time... and a lot of space to understand where I am standing, if I can ever forgive you for what you did."

"But you said that you understand why I did what I did," he whined, not understanding what I meant.

"There is a fundamental difference between understanding the reason for something, accepting it, and forgiving someone for them. The difference is so huge that sometimes people can't cross over all of them." I explained, softly, hoping that he would understand... finally.

"What if you're one of those people, Mia," and there it was, all his fears.

"Then we never meet again, Anthony." He lifted his head from my lap and pulled himself up from the ground.

"You don't need to worry about looking over your shoulder any longer. I'll arrange for the last person to be sent back and the situation handled." His hands were pushed inside the pocket of his jeans and he stared at my face intently.

"You don't need to do that," I said in a small voice, but the confidence of having someone look out for me gave me such pleasure.

"If I never get to see you again, the least I can hope for is you being safe wherever you are." I sighed.

"Promise me that you will not try to find me," I demanded. He shook his head. "Please," I pleaded.

"No. That is one thing I can't do. I won't contact you, don't worry, but I won't shy away from finding out where you are."

"And if you can't locate me?"

"I will," so confident in his speech, he almost glowed. This was what I loved most about him: his confidence in his skills and resources. And I loved him so much.

"Let's sleep, okay?" he asked me, softly. "It has been a while since I slept properly. I would like one chance of peace," he explained.

I gave him a slight nod and pushed myself to the centre of the bed. He crawled across the sheets and plopped down right next to me. We stared at the ceiling for some time, him telling me about the new game he is playing obsessively. I asked him who made his sandwiches and he said no one.

Eventually, I found myself being sheltered by him: my back to his chest, feet entwined, cheeks pressing together and the soft sound of humming coming from him.

I fantasized about not leaving, staying right there with him and forgetting about my plans. For hours I listened to his even breathing and the slight tremor of his fingers over my stomach.

"No," I spoke out loud, making my decision tangible. I had to leave.

It was time, I realized, as I glanced at the clock.

I slowly untangled myself from his embrace and stared at him as I changed into my travelling clothes. He stirred once as I flitted across the room, putting my luggage in one place. Then he grumbled when I just sat in front of him and tried to memorize the lines of his face.

With another glance towards the clock, I knew that I had no more time to spare. I inched forward to him and took his face in my palms.

"Anthony," I whispered, hoping he would wake. "Anthony," I choked. His eyes fluttered, and his sleepy smile greeted me. His hand ran over my arms as he enjoyed my touch. "I have to leave," I told him. His brow scrunched and he shook his head a little. "Yes," I told him, caressing his cheek. I leaned in and pressed my lips against his.

It had been so long...

"Don't leave..." he asked me. I shook my head as I felt him pull me back to him. I didn't protest.

Just a few more minutes.

"Please..." he whispered as he pressed me up against the bed and peppered my face his kisses. "I love you..." he breathed before kissing me once more. He pulled my hands over my head, his willing captive. He pushed his weight into me, banishing me from even thinking of leaving him.

"Please," I echoed. "I must."

He sucked in a breath and then nodded.

"Just once... One last time," he groaned, pulling my lip between his teeth. I whimpered as I let him do what he wanted. I don't know how long it lasted, but the heat of his lips against my mind left a mark that seared itself into my mind.

"Goodbye, my kitten," he smiled, a fake smile and then closed his eyes as I started to walk away.

"Goodbye, Anthony."

I turned around and prayed to God that he would not call me back.

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