Not long...
Sylrie woke to the feel of Leif's lips against her collarbone. She sighed in contentment as his lips pressed against her neck, her jaw, her cheek. She opened her eyes when his lips touched against her temple. He was teasing her, she knew it from the look in his eyes when they met hers. She leaned forwards to kiss him but he ducked his head away, kissing her lightly on the tip of her nose. Sylrie grabbed his shoulders and pulled his lips to hers. Once again, he dodged, planting another kiss on her cheek.
"Don't tease," murmured Sylrie.
Leif smiled.
"Wasn't teasing," he said nonchalantly.
Then his lips finally met hers, and it was a relief. Sylrie leant into him, putting her hands on his chest before moving them upwards to his hair. It was tousled and messy, but she really didn't care. They stayed like that, breathing into the kiss until her mind spun and black began to seep into the corners of her vision. Sylrie let the darkness come, even when she knew that if she didn't breathe properly then she would fall into unconsciousness. She welcomed that thought. Leif pulled back a few centimetres so that they could inhale properly. She almost didn't let him get that far. They lay there, their heavy breaths mixing until Leif caught his breath enough to speak.
"Syl," he murmured. "I hate to say this, but I think we might have just a few things to do today."
Sylrie groaned and kissed Leif again.
"What's more important than this?" she asked.
Leif grabbed her hips and pulled her against him. She tucked her head under his chin and he pressed his temple against her hair.
"Nothing is more important than this. But I'm pretty sure that if you don't change my bandages then the blood will get all over us, and that would ruin the romance."
Sylrie smiled and extricated herself from Leif's embrace.
"I guess you're right," she conceded, getting out of the bed and grabbing her rumbled blue t-shirt from the ground.
She had a black vest on underneath, and she was grateful that Leif had taken off her top. It had been a very warm night, probably because she had never taken her hands of Leif and he had never taken his hands off her. She smiled at the memory and pulled the t-shirt over her head. As she stretched up on her tiptoes to grab the medical supplies from the cupboard, she heard the crinkle of paper some from her back pocket. She groaned as she remembered the letter.
"What's wrong?" asked Leif, sitting up in bed.
"Nothing," replied Sylrie, quickly retrieving the roll of bandages. "It's just something I found at the mall."
She sat down across from Leif, handed him the letter and started to treat his wound. Leif opened the envelope almost immediately. He dug out the thin piece of neatly folded paper and started to read it. After a moment he sighed, then grabbed Sylrie wrists, prying them away from his wound. He kissed her, pulling her against him and his hands crept up her back, entangling his fingers in her hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back so hard it hurt. Her heart pounded in her chest, beating so fast she thought she might explode. He made a noise and Sylrie couldn't tell if it was desire or regret or longing or pain, or maybe a mix of all of them. They broke apart when the blood from Leif's wound started to get all over them. Sylrie returned her attention to the bandages, wrapping them tightly, but Leif's arms didn't move from around her waist. He held her close to him, like he was afraid to let her go.
"What was that for?" she whispered.
Leif dragged her closer again and their lips collided. It took all of Sylrie's willpower not to melt into him. She pushed him back.
"Leif?" she asked, concerned. "What's going on?"
Leif took a deep breath and then he said it. The six most terrifying words ever. Sylrie's heart stopped.
No, she thought. NO! Not Leif. Please no. Anyone but him.
She suddenly understood his desperation and leaned forwards to kiss him. She dug her fingers into his shirt and held on like her life depended on it. This time it was Leif who pulled back. The tears leaked out of her eyes and her heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces. Leif pulled her in close to his chest as she wept.
All she could think was, Not him. Not him. Not him. Not him.
Because the six words Leif had said were destroying her from the inside out.
"I'm poisoned, Syl," he'd said. "They've poisoned me."
Mwahahahaha! I told you Syleif wouldn't last long! Or will it... I'm kinda getting tired of being cryptic.
Cakey4 🍰
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Everlasting
General Fiction*COMPLETED* Sylrie Noir's life was hard enough as it was. She had been orphaned and exiled as a child, and all other children who had the misfortune of meeting her had run away after a few minutes, screaming and crying. And it was all because of the...
