This new piece comes some point after this piece. I posted another piece yesterday that falls between the evening in the bar and the tempered breakfast. Enjoy.
Beep. Beep. Clip. Clip. Woosh as the door opened. Blair’s complexion was as pale as the paint on the walls of her hospital room. Everything in her room was white, except the neon flashes from the heart monitor above her. There was a sense of nothingness all around.
Louis. Her mind would beg.
She could close her eyes, and often did, and see his face lurking perfectly behind her eyelids. She would never forget. She would never allow herself to. She had lived her life too long without him, but she had lived. She may have dreams of owning an art gallery, of finally having her name up in lights, but her heart yearned for Louis. His love, his warmth, his scent were all craved by her soul. She would close her eyes and he would come to her here in the hospital room. He would sit on the chair beside her bed. She could feel his hand holding hers. A touch of wind was his caress; an itch of her lips was his kiss. His eyes would moisten, and a raindrop would fall.
Live, she would hear, though his mouth never moved.
It’s not your time yet. Live. His voice would plead.
She could sense the cracking of it in his sorrow.
No. I want you. I need you.
Her silent tears slid from closed lashes. Arms lifted, fell lucid to the floor. Doctors shook their heads. The blip on the screen began to slow. A soft breeze rippled the sheets.
If you love me, you will live.
Do you think I answered the prompt? Concrit is always welcome.