Waiting

No. It had happened. He fingered his neck again. He couldn't have bit himself there. He also couldn't mistake the feeling of the sex. It was still there now. He might have been without sex for a while, Christian having lost his appeal, but one didn't imagine things like that. Slowly, he went into a small room off the main body of the church, and found a stub of a candle in the drawer where they had been kept. He carried it out to the altar and lit it reverently; shocked at the depth of feeling he had for what had happened. He wasn't scared by it at all. He was a little regretful, a little saddened. But not scared.

"Thank you for waiting," he whispered quietly as he lit the candle with his lighter, and maybe there was an answering breath of wind in the church suddenly, making the flame flicker briefly before it came to life, burning strong and bright in the dust and silence. He left the candle burning, and then left the church, casting a defiant glance at the woman who stared at him when he was leaving. He wouldn't be back. But a part of him would always be here. He had missed something perfect. But he had known it for a night. Maybe it was enough to live with. He should call Christian when he got back. What they had must be worth saving.

finis