it kills him to let me go,
He couldn't stop himself when he found himself walking towards the bed, his feet moving on their own accord. He didn't stop himself when he pulled back the covers and snuggled under the duvet, enjoying the sweet fragrance of the honey flavoured shampoo that she always used; that still lingered on the pillows and sheets.
He buried his face in the sheets, enjoying the feel of the silk sheets against the rough exteriors of his face.
He hadn't shaved in over a week and his lack of personal care was taking a toll on him. Though in his defence, he had spent the last week making the hardest decision of his life.
But now he had nothing left to do but wallow in misery and sleep.
He revelled in the feeling of her hands on his face, cupping his face as she looked up at him adoringly. Her hands cupped his face lovingly yet firm at the same time, as if she suspected him to turn away. Like that would ever be the case, he scoffed to himself.
Both sides of his mouth tilted up at their own accord as she smiled at him. His heart contracted painfully in his chest when she laid her head in the crook of his neck, a few stray strands of her hair tickling him. But he didn't say a word, for he was afraid that if he did then she would wake up.
And then she would be gone all over again.
His lungs struggled to function as she removed her arms from his face and slid them down his chest, so painstakingly slowly before wrapping them around his waist, only snuggling closer to him as she did.
His eyes fluttered closed and he nuzzled his face against the top of her head, inhaling in her sweet scent, committing it to memory. His arms wrapped around her petite frame. He was finally home. It didn't matter where he was or what was going on around them, as long as he was with her, his wife, he would always be at home.
He had lost all feeling, all control over his own body. He was truly and completely hers to do as she wished.
If only she knew.
He finally opened his eyes with the intent of staring down into her luscious green orbs that never failed to mesmerise him whenever he looked into them, but to his utter dismay, all he had to look at was the pillow that he was clutching tightly to his chest.
He released a primal sob and buried his face into the pillow, squeezing the life out of it as he sobbed for all that he lose and the future that could have been.
The worst thing about dreams were the fact that you had to wakeup at one point. He didn't mind one bit that none of it had been real, he was just happy that he could still see her in his dreams, but what he couldn't bring himself to overlook was the fact that everything faded away as soon as he woke up.
Fading away just as quickly as she did.
He was no longer at peace, no longer calm or happy.
He was alone once again, and all he had left to bring him any form of comfort were his memories. But he feared that even they, one day, would leave him.