A single hand met upon her cheek, nearing her delicate, dimmed red features. With his thumb, he wiped across her pale skin to erase the paths, that were as clear as glass, that ran from her closed eyes.
A meek attempt to cover the glistening trails of rue. With someone as undeserving as him... does she thrive on a concept?
An image of the man she's fallen for, picturing the two off in some distant land, in a world of their own creation, to share with one and another; blind to the real world; so unforgiving.
There is but one other heart that surfaces, between her and the dream, with its faint beating, gradually rising in volume, piercing the silence, and steadily growing louder as time passed.
A warmth that began to grow from his heart, turned to hands, and extended his new-found arms out to her, to sink within the cold shell of her body, and come in contact with her heart, to comfort her in reality, where her dream could not blanket her.
A rose whose petals curl in and wither, to the crippling aches in her chest...