Far Away
The images were just out of his reach. The old tapes of them together. The slightly less appropriate videos. He saw memories flashing before his eyes in black and white, moving back and forth as if it was an old film, taking the moments recorded with excited eyes and fancy Nikon cameras and replaying them one by one, muted and in slow motion against the pitch black surroundings.
Suddenly he felt so close to him, as if a version of him from the old films had manifested itself there. He could almost reach out to touch him, to feel the rough but smooth texture of his simple formal suit, black and white just like everything else. The old taste of his kisses lingering in his mouth, making him yearn for that touch just one more time.
It was so real, the image he'd been presented with. He could see the mole above his upper lip, the strong look of diligence and leadership in his dark eyes. He could smell the faint scent of cologne, expensive yet not pompous, anointing his wrists. But as he reached out to touch him, he vaporized into wispy smoke, leaving nothing but white to travel through his outstretched fingers, not even able to feel the whispering spirals taunting him as they coiled upwards.
Without warning the film reel slowed to a stop, the last frame of them hugging lingering in his mind after the images flickered out of view and sank away, leaving nothing but darkness and that single fading memory.
And then it stopped, a worried hand jolting him back into reality.
"Are you alright?" A high voice shaken by what sounded like fear. A second person, his partner-in-crime shifted on the bed beside him, meticulously flattening the edge of the bedsheet.
He simply turned his face into the damp pillow, tasting the salt water on his lips. His voice rang thick and shaky.
"I miss him."
Suddenly he felt so close to him, as if a version of him from the old films had manifested itself there. He could almost reach out to touch him, to feel the rough but smooth texture of his simple formal suit, black and white just like everything else. The old taste of his kisses lingering in his mouth, making him yearn for that touch just one more time.
It was so real, the image he'd been presented with. He could see the mole above his upper lip, the strong look of diligence and leadership in his dark eyes. He could smell the faint scent of cologne, expensive yet not pompous, anointing his wrists. But as he reached out to touch him, he vaporized into wispy smoke, leaving nothing but white to travel through his outstretched fingers, not even able to feel the whispering spirals taunting him as they coiled upwards.
Without warning the film reel slowed to a stop, the last frame of them hugging lingering in his mind after the images flickered out of view and sank away, leaving nothing but darkness and that single fading memory.
And then it stopped, a worried hand jolting him back into reality.
"Are you alright?" A high voice shaken by what sounded like fear. A second person, his partner-in-crime shifted on the bed beside him, meticulously flattening the edge of the bedsheet.
He simply turned his face into the damp pillow, tasting the salt water on his lips. His voice rang thick and shaky.
"I miss him."