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by Leni Ba
So begin his dreams in those night he hasn't tired himself enough to enjoy the darkness of sleep without images of the past assaulting him.
Her voice is never soft, never whispered as he had always desired it would be. Its sharpness hurts him, creates new wounds her gun would never hope to inflict. But he still loves it, loves the way her lips move forming the words, loves the way they are laced with true anger and true venom. He's the only who can make her feel so much.
Then the dream turns into a nightmare, it never is less than what he expects.
Running through dark corridors, so bare and sterile that he can feel the cold in his bones. He runs and runs without stopping, a labyrinth not even Theseus would have escaped from.
Sometimes he hears the click-click of high heels behind him. Is she hunting him? Following him? Or simply echoing his steps because that's the only game they've played in adulthood?
He needs her to be the Ariadne to his hero, he needs her to know the way to salvation and light. But that cannot be, she is also lost in the maze of lies and betrayals.
He would never betray her. Because he's not Theseus and she is not Ariadne. He doesn't only want her to show him the light and then abandon her to her luck. No. Of course not. He wants her to enjoy happiness and freedom at his side.
And he will always want her to say...
"...and I chase."
Then he wakes up.