"I hardly knew you, my love. And quite frankly, the blood that flows within me dictates that I never even loved you in the first place."

He took his cigarette from the ashtray and stared at it long enough to put it out without having to puff on it. The shadows grabbed him from behind and sucked him in. The woman that sat in front of him watched in horror as the darkness beheld him as if it was alive and caressing, like a woman full in vain. Her insufficiencies to counter such scares were next to nothing as she could only watch and tremble from a distance, and in that one moment she watched him dive into obscurity. Regret drowned her eyes, and in despair, they were together.

She stood up and clenched one fist, "There is no denying your insubstantial claim. But lest you forget it, I do this for both our behalf. The stars drag your body elsewhere, while I remain basked in the cold graces of night."

"And you look at me now drenched in darkness while you speak of light overflowing me."

"No. I speak figuratively and not of current events that are supposed to frighten me senseless. And I am, surely, but I cannot allow such a thing to continually pursue my rational thoughts. The shadows that lay behind you are a manifestation of your anger. An anger directed towards me. That fuels you endlessly the more we find each other in sight. Let me be free as you wish, and allow time to kill this memory of ours."

A bodiless arm appeared from his knees and touched the ground blindly creeping its way onward as if in search for something. Meanwhile, he was in no more mood for talking. His eyes glowed red with rage, burning of want to vengeance.

She realizes the thought and preemptively counters the judgment, "You wish me dead, but the whispers in your heart speak something of a different sort. Tell me, what is it that you seek?"

His defensive eyes were blatantly obvious. "I do not seek an 'it' but a 'she'."

"And you seek 'she' dead, is it not?"

His smirk gave a resounding yes. 

"Then do it."

The smirk dissipated in the air as the threat overwhelms his proud spirit. The moment he pushed his chest in the air, he knew he was in for a long ride. But the shadows that counsel his mind were patient, and would rather spend an eternity in wait than be tortured by the concept of loss.

He lifts one leg away from the bodiless arm below and inches closer to the woman in the shade, "You do not mock me, my love. Not anymore, not ever since. Your words are as empty as your soul. You speak of death like a commodity, how do you live bearing that thought? Have you no respect or dignity? What have those stomach of yours been digesting? Were you not aware my emotion is but transient and foolish? Regret does not consume me, nor do the thoughts of us in bed and fucking. My only concern is of your potential, and your potential exceeds far greater than my own desires for your immediate demise. Wake up to the sounds of darkness as guidance. Evil does not dread if the intention is for the greater good, therefore there is not such thing as absolute, because even the worst has worth to make better even better given the circumstances. That is where you come in."

"I do not fully understand. And I do not intend to understand. I know your intentions, and believe you insincere. This folly does not make sense."

"Follies need not make sense. That is the wonderful idea about it. Mirror that mind of yours and see as I see, and learn."

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