Cursed Ground

Chances were very good they’d both die there. For her it was be a physical death, for him… a loss of himself to something much worse.

He closed his eyes and pulled her closer. He wanted to remember this moment. The last moment he’d probably ever have to share something other than hatred, anger, sorrow or guilt. She was warm, she felt like life in spite of how dead he guessed she was feeling inside. For him, she was life. A light that meant he might actually have a chance to die with someone by his side rather than the unbearable thought of dying alone in the dark hole that offered them no way out. If for no other reason, he would do everything in his power to see that she lived so that he could look upon her gentle face when the end came near.

He pulled away when her sobs died down. Then, heavy silence settled in the room. One last temptation of affection compelled him to wipe away the tear streaming down her face. Then to distract himself he noticed her wet clothing. “Your shirt,” he said and moved to unbutton it, then stopped, realizing his giddy mistake. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.” He moved to the closet and laid a robe on the bed. “I’ll just be out in the hall.”

While she shuffled to get dressed, he’d used the opportunity to grab the rope from the closet a few feet away. He would use it if he had to, if only to save her from herself.

When he stepped back in the room it was the first thing she noticed.

“People have killed themselves for less dramatic reasons. I can’t be responsible for you too. But, if you give me your word, I won’t need it.”

She cut her eyes away. Her confession was unspoken but blunt. So she was an honest woman. He wasn’t surprised, but witnessing her raw honesty did stun him a little, in spite of his understanding that she was the very thing. In cases like this one, when death was such a tempting alternative to the pain, most would not be quite as honest. But it was a good sign. The fact that she was willing to admit she wanted to die was also an indication that she actually wanted to live.

He moved over to her and tied the rope around her wrists, but such a simple act was fairly difficult for him given the fact that every so often his hand would brush against her arm and send a fierce surge of desire through his body. After his unwarranted fascination with her last night, he expected he might have this type of reaction in her presence.