Lily White, Crimson Red

I had watched her for nearly an hour now, utterly entranced by every slight movement she made and unable to draw my eyes away from her. She would look at me every so often, brushing dark hair from her pale face. Her features blurred to a single point and all I could see were dark crimson lips.

She came over to my table then, and my mind resolved her features, brown eyes, a faint blush standing out like a forest fire in winter against her pale skin. Her voice was too loud in my head, and I was unable to follow the conversation. I smiled and I saw no fear in her eyes, only acknowledgment of her reality. I had never seen eyes so sad.

She went up my stairs without complaint, her arm entwined in mine. I brushed the tears from her eyes as we passed my threshold, and gave her a drink. I watched as she passed into sleep from my tonic and her eyes closed fully.

I shook as I came home, her apartment had not been so far and it was easy enough to find. I left her there; she had nothing to give that I could take.

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