Responsibility was a heavy word, and yet for some reason I could feel it slinging itself across my shoulders; bizarrely the image of a peasant with a stick with two heavy buckets attached to either end across their shoulders, came into my head.
But do you want to know how I spent my evening?
Holed up in my room, avoiding people in general, and desperately trying to kid myself that I was relaxed and calm until I could succumb to the sweet relief of unconscious sleep.
Smooth, white skin - like thinnest silk stretched over a framework of strong, handsome cheekbones. Dark pools of chocolate staring out at me beneath a stroke of dark, matted hair that hangs in wild tresses around the face of gorgeous pallor. Thin, blue veins marble the skin.
My finger touches the tip of a vein near his eye, and follows it down; his eye shuts softly and shivers of electricity shudder throughout me.
Over the cheekbone, firm beneath my finger, and down the lines of his neck - across the broad planes of his shoulder, around the smooth muscle, down the back...
I feel his shoulder blade beneath my hand, feel his body against mine, our hearts pounding together.
I am so cold, so alive, so here in this moment; despite the danger that thrums through the atmosphere. The cold bites my skin, smothers me in a mist so terribly icy it's painful. A moan escapes from the cage of his throat. He pulls me closer. Desire races through my body, his body, our bodies.
Nails dig into the flesh of my waist, pain shoots through me. Our shapes are entwined.
Blood drips. This isn't right. Half-moon marks, gouges, are patterned on my waist from where his hand is. Desire, danger, desire.
Blood, blood, dripping onto the floor, over our feet, our skin. I reach down to feel the wound - it's growing, the half-moons are enlarging into a gaping hole...
My hand on the strong shape of his chest, battling between desire to pull closer and push away.
The hole gets bigger, pain rips through me, a bloody hand against white, pale white...
And now the white is engulfing me, chasing me, shapes of bloody red emerging from dark shadows to laugh at me, following me, watching me as I fall to the floor and curl around my hole, waiting...waiting...
Blood spreads on the ground in terrible shapes, and he laughs.