Drain

He is mine, and has been from the very moment I first touched his skin, filled his mouth.  He was so young then, and it’s been so long since that time…but nothing has changed.

Nothing.

His warmth belongs to me, and always has.  Always will, until death do us part.  It is mine, as is that of his flesh resting deep inside me, stiff and swollen.  Beads of translucent water trickle off his limbs exposed, jutting above the still ruby sheet that surrounds his naked, sculpted figure.  He is beautiful, so tragically beautiful.

His name is Adrian.

Too-blue eyes stare upward at the ceiling, far beyond me, innocent and unbelieving.  Full, moist lips part, and through clenched teeth, perfect teeth, he sucks in a ragged breath.  His chest rises, pushes against my body, and I put up no resistance, spreading for him as he convulses within me.  He releases more of himself into me, filling me with a hot liquid fire that completely colors all that I am from head to toe.

The electricity in his eyes begins to fade slowly, his adrenaline bleeding out, along with salt-water tears that stain his dimpled cheeks.

He never says my name, not even as his fingers fold along the edges of the uncomfortable bed of ceramic white we’re both contained by, squeezing it with the last of his strength.

I don’t say his name, either.

We’ve ascended, and there is no longer a need for words between us.

Body language tells all.

One last shudder ripples through him, through me, and then he sinks, a peaceful smile upon his face as it disappears beneath clouds of spiraling red, his dark hair spread around him in a muddy pool.  His hand slides back into my warmth—our warmth.

He abandons a razor blade upon the lip of the tub, left behind by limp fingertips painting cherry-red trails.  His heart pumps the last of his life out of his body, and into mine.

I have never felt more loved by any man.

Exactly six hours, forty-seven minutes, nine seconds from now, the police will pull the plug, and all that had once existed between Adrian and I will cease to exist as it’s sucked down the drain.

I guess it's true what they say...that love is a downward spiral.