I hung by the dim candle light, spewing faded flaxen auras all over the room. Its warmth offered me no comfort. It could only remind me of the golden, pure heart, soul, aura, the gold which Tiffany radiated and the warmth of her love. The memory only caused me misery, for I could not feel it. I could not see it. I could barely remember it-a sliver of memory in my mind. I was empty.

I am alone!

The only reason worth breathing was the temptation of seeing her again, being touched by her soul again. The chances seemed utterly dark, and I knew it, even with Andrion on our side.

Being torn from her made me realize that I was nothing without her. I had always thought her attachment to me was dangerous, that she was far too reliant on me. But the action of ripping, tearing, of her from me, the walls which held us apart, made me realize that it was not one more lenient on the other. The heart is useless without the blood. Everything was a balance! Why did not I know that?

And the balance had been disturbed. I was lost.

I snuffed out the candle and let darkness swallow me up, take me in its velvet grasp. The cold, wet shadows were comforting. They matched my mood.

Closing my eyes, I rested my aching head on my pillow. I sighed, fancying that I could smell Tiffany's perfume, the smell of her hair. And for a moment, I believed I did smell it, that I could feel the warmth of her body next to mine, and even better, the warmth of her soul as its fingers touched mine.

But it was probably my imagination.

I shifted and stared into the obscure blackness of the place. I couldn't give up. I would never give up.   

The End

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