Part 1: The Chiaroscuro
Everything to Come
It was in the way he touched her—
a seduction so intellectual, it was a nautilus shell.
A caress so reverent, she felt entirely enough.
It was in the way he spoke to her—
voice low and warm, burning like coals.
A mutual respect that hummed like heat between them.
It was in the way she looked at him—
her gaze a thread, unraveling his every nerve.
A seeing so intimate, it stitched life back into his lungs.
It was in the way she lingered in him—
like a ghost with gentle claws, scratching through his memory.
A heartache so vast, it left him haunted.
It was in the way it endured—
always almost, never whole.
A love so infinite, it left him and her eternal.