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She lay in her bed like a jewel in a box.
Beautiful Adelaide, white as a rose.
Marluxia took care of the beautiful things.
He touched her on the forehead, softly not to wake her cats.
And only to him, her eyes opened up.
“Oh my,” she rose to sit up. “It’s quite late, isn’t it?”
“It is,” said Marluxia.
She was at her oldest and most beautiful. So was he.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she said.
“Everything in time.”
“What a handsome young man you are,” said Adelaide to him and the Dahlia.
Marluxia smiled. He was old.
“If only Edgar were still around,” the old woman said. “I should have woken him to make tea.”
“Ah yes. Edgar.”
“He was such good company,” said Adelaide. “He was almost like a cat.”
Marluxia chuckled.
She looked down at her cats in the bed. Each one was lovely, except for the tom.
She touched them all with her spider-lace hands. Ears flicked and whiskers swept, and none of them woke.
Lastly, she touched the prettiest cat. It purred in its sleep.
“My dear Duchess.”
Marluxia always had time to wait for a beautiful person like Adelaide.
“Now then,” she looked back up at him. “Will you help these old bones to get up?”
Like all of the men who had loved her, he bent and presented his palm.