...the lady danced around me like a nymph, she held a gift behind her back. I smiled, but the underlying tone for me was off. She was too happy with it. The bit of self-satisfaction put me at odds. Anyone happy with themselves is never to be trusted. As much as I loved her - deeply, fully as I loved her - she held the red wrapped package and danced about in her own way, "Why are you so happy?"
"Why aren't you? You are never happy." She was not wrong. I got tired of the game and crossed my arms. My tan pea coat warming with the change, "I'm happy when I need to be."
"Hmpf." She uncrossed my arms and stood on her tip toes. She knew the effect. Her light green eyes sparkled in mischief underneath her light red hair. It fell in long curls around the frame of her brow. She gave me the demure smile. It was an act of deferment, but it was anything but. She could ask anything of me with that smile. It was my stupid weakness. She was my stupid weakness.
She led me back into the house. The kitchen was lit with candles and sprigs of evergreen framing them. Squash and chestnut soup was lightly roiling over a chafing dish. All were a contrast against the dark brick wall. The epitome of picturesque: what with this part of the house framed by wild ivy and potted willows.
The kitchen was warm, but not overly so. The dampness of the cool rain this morning would see to that for the season. The smell of beef roast from the oven made the heart feel warmer than it should.
We sat and she still had the smirk on her face. She placed the red papered gift in between us.
"I don't want to open it." She frowned, "You know you have to." I tried to stare through her, into her - but her will was a wall. It's presence was foreboding. I took a deep breath and frowned in resignation.
She clapped like a child as I reached for it. It felt small, but heavy.
"I hope you'll like it." I tore at the paper and I held a small druggist's bottle. It was dark brown glass and fit in my palm. The cork stopper looked as if iodine soaked it through. I felt uneasy as I placed in front of me and stared at her.
Her smile disappeared and she sat upright. The air grew cooler, "Drink it. It's poison." I knew it was. I mean, I knew it was going to be when we took our walk. I knew it when I awoke this morning. It was poison and I did not doubt her for a second.
She stared at the bottle with me. "It's the world in a bottle." Meaning that it needed to end. We needed to stop existing. She held out her glass and ask for the first serving. I uncorked it and drew the two glasses. She held it up to her mouth and stared at me in a seriousness I would never have seen otherwise.
"I cannot live without you, Leo." In some ways, this was resignation. I couldn't live without this, without her. I never could. I drank it quickly.
The world swam quickly and the awful, dreadful weight of impending dark swept through me. It felt like going through a tunnel that was quickly getting smaller at the end. The pain of the body convulsing as it tried to fight the damn fool thing the brain did...it mustered what it could to fight. The larger muscles, the legs and the arms, were gripped in pain as they tensed beyond measure. I fell from the chair.
Her giggle came at me somewhere in the fog of blurred dark and I knew instantly she did not drink with me. I could hear her glass calmly tap against the kitchen table before there was no more....
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