The sky is littered with shining dots, some smaller, some larger, some bright, some dull.
Stars glow across the firmament that seems so close and is yet so far away.
You drag your eyes from the window and back to the man who is sleeping next to you.
Slowly, your mind processes what has brought you here.
Just one touch.
Two bodies, pressed together in a mutual longing for closeness.
Panting, hot breaths ghosting over inflamed skin.
It went so smoothly, even though you never saw it coming.
And you certainly won't complain.
Silently you place a kiss on his cheek and brush your fingers across the soft, tanned skin.
His breath comes in quiet, steady puffs of air, and you relish in the knowledge that this living, breathing man is all yours.
A warm feeling coils in the pit of your stomach, spreads through your chest, and fills you until you are sure that your face must be a flaring red.
You don't care.
Everything seems so easy now.
But something at the back of your mind keeps nagging; it bothers you, like some thought stuffed into a corner of your brain that keeps trying to break forth.
He sighs contently, and you ruffle his dark hair.
It doesn't matter, you decide.
But your mind keeps on and on, and you start wondering again.
What is there that you don't remember, what is it that you cannot see?
You keep going over your sensations, over the situation.
Feel his hair under your fingers.
Hear his soft breath.
And you shiver slightly.
Something is off, but you can't seem to grasp what it is.
You feel it, deeply hidden beneath the warmth in your heart and the fluttering of your belly.
The anxiety of a silent warning washes over you, and you slide from the side of the bed to get something to drink.
It is only when you return to the bedroom that the missing piece falls into place.
A harsh breath comes over your lips and fades through the mask as the smooth sheets dissolve into a bloodied battlefield- as the breathing, living being dissipates into nothing but a heap of burnt flesh and bone.
Your breath comes raggedly as you stumble to your feet, awoken to something you have tried so hard to get away from.
Death and destruction welcome you back into reality, and you grasp the kunai in your hand with sudden realization.
This is your life; this is your purpose.
To fight, to win, to start again.
The man you love and crave is far away unaware of how your heart aches and your head plays tricks on you whenever you close your eyes.