Monday, March 16, 2015

The Bruise

 She looked back at her pale reflection in the silvery splintered mirror. She turned and tilted her face  toward the light to capture the whole effect. Her right eye, puffy and swollen - her favorite shades of deep aubergine and the fairest hints of lilac around; almost encircling her glowing copper eye as a halo would. She pressed her cheekbone tenderly, just enough to feel the throbbing pain. She savored that deep, aching sensation. It meant that he loved her. He loved her in that rare, visceral kind of way - he couldn't bear to lose her. His deepest, most violent jealousies were something she craved more than anything. She had suffered, yes, but it was for a noble cause, even if this love would be the end of her.

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