December 22, 2001 Saturday - 22:47

if no man is an island, then i am a peninsula. at the very least, a coastal area.

a beautiful slender thing. curled over, wisps of hair obscuring his face but not the tear that silently dripped off it. torn between love and duty, lover and master. the pain of the decision he knew he had to make, knew he would make, but as yet still tormented him, searing through all his insides and sliced away at him. the hardness of the floor beneath his knees, the coldness of the air and his master's eyes, making his head swim, the sob he had to choke back. the cries of the one he loved echoing through his head. his graceful fingers clenched into a trembling fist, nails biting into palm. unable to think straight, knowing only duty, duty, duty. but a duty that brought unimaginable pain, a pain raw and bloody. frail gossamer memories fragmenting in his head, memories of a halcyon time, alone with his lover, memories of loving and being loved, of being more than just a thing, more than just a vassal, memories of feeling really human. memories of a voice whispering tenderness that now screamed agony. all the time knowing the choice he had to make.
and that he now made.

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