Perennial Lover
She was leaving him. Again. And there was nothing he could do about it. They were caught in this endless cycle of renewal to slow decay. He hated it – and still he yearned for her. Every time. He smoothed a hand over the soft length of her back, as she lay besides him, hovering in that insouciant peace between waking and sleep. It made him smile. She had not been this relaxed, this calm in a long time, the last few weeks a constant parade of violent reassertions of her power, followed by timid...