He takes a sip of the spirit while looking outside the window. The sky is covered with grey menacing clouds, heavy winds make all the threes of the forest under the window headbanging following an inaudible but crazy melody.
All the memories come back in his head, the flood of memories swallows each of his smallest neurons, he almost feel the heat of her skin back in the day. He still see her lying on the floor all naked and fragile but with lust in her eyes, like a beautiful succubus.

He remembers the taste of her skin, it’s like bitting in a warm hazelnut, soft and smooth and she tasted exactly like that, a taste of golden autumn evening, with chimney smoke’s smell blended with wet earthen scent in the air.
He remembers her hair, he let his fingers running down this onyx river and felt the fresh touch of the soft silk.

She was an angel, a fallen one. She was a white spot on the dark oak parquet, she went down for him as her heart’d beaten for him since the beginning of univers, since there was only void and nought and all that were in movement was some fusion energies crossing space.

He miss her. He miss the touch of her skin under his hand, he miss her small voice when she said she loved him and she gave herself, her all self to him.

He knows that he’ll never have these sensations again, they’ll remain sweet memories for him during rainy days as he made her his own that day. Even if he still feel the power of her heart in his blood and her warm energy around his gut, he’ll never been able to touch her skin again as she fell into pieces and disappeared into the void this day, after she offered him her burning heart that tasted like hot caramel.

A lightning shatters the black cloak of the sky.

A great thanks to Yann Lestrelin for these beautiful pictures.

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