Work Text:
“How much do you want it?” he asks.
He smiles at me, warm and inviting, and I remember a time when I was his and he was almost mine. In the dark forgotten corner of heaven, we had each other.
“You just have to take what you want and never let go.”
We never talked about what we did to end up There. I did not ask and he did not care. But he knew —the whole host knew — and I cared too much.
How much do I want it?
He talks about his family. He talks about braiding his daughters hair and drinking from empty teacups. He talks about laughing at his wife’s puns and reading badly written poetry. He talks about the body he wears and the bruises it left and how it will never hurt anyone again.
i want it i want it i want it i want it i want it.
I hold a cup of tea in my hands. It looks so small, so easy to crush. I do not take a sip. I am afraid they would shake.
“What about the price?” I ask. There is always a price.
“It is worth it.”
I do not return his smile.