fiction.

Your face was so thin, and your skin looked so pale next to my tanned fingers. I took my hands off of your warm face. My hand felt like it was burning.


"I know this is wrong," you said, taking a step towards me. "I know we were wrong--I shouldn't have come." My eye twitched at the succession of your thoughts. And inside, a part of me was sneering at your guilt.


"Don't worry, it was a mistake, surely, and she will never find out." The tension between your brows seemed to relax and your shoulders began to droop to its normal slump. And, one last time, you pulled me close and whispered, "forever and ever."


I threw my cigarette centimeters away from your foot and spat to extinguish the last of the smoldering cancerous flame. You didn't seem to notice. I slid my hands back into my pocket and I turned to look at you one last time before walking away--catching your smirk . With every click of my heel on the dark street, I felt the self-worth drain from my body.


I threw away my morality for one last memory.