Jade Fern Grove chafa

She bloomed beneath him—a moment to writhe as his name sang from her lips—like a balm to his internal wounds. He trailed upward now—her hips aligning—his kiss slanting toward a breastbone.

Featherlight, and then she was gone. The blazing heat doused by the frigid air—his name spoken once more from her in a little gasp—and his eyes watched her disappear from his life—limned in the faint glow of of a stormy night.

He did not move from his spot… Not until the storm passed. Not for some time. Minutes became hours. A night.

And as if the stitches pulled from a bleeding heart, he slowly rose, slinking out of the cave. Day greeted him—the sun seemingly forgetting that there was nothing to be cheerful about.

A certain hardness settled in his eyes. Resolve. And with a released exhale, the man began his way home—

—for the day to day tasks would always need to be done, no matter the unraveling of his world.