Gryphons In Midnight

 

He walks a very delicate line.  Every time he takes a breath, he debates whether or not to say goodbye.  He's so very loyal that he cannot see his way toward leaving, even though he knows that any other bird would have flown the coop long ago.  But, he stays, because he's just that kind of creature.  The kind that never seems to know when to quit.

The blackness of the night engulfs him, and he loves it.  She watches him as he walks back to his lair.  He knows she's there, but he doesn't turn around to look for her.  Being obstinate enough to ignore her is one of his singular defenses against the havoc she wreaks in his soul.

She follows him home.  He strips slowly and climbs into his bed without so much as a look in her direction.  He knows she'll be there...sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed the moment he closes his eyes.   Her weight on his mattress is sign that he's correct again.  She touches him, and he sighs, unsure of what to do to make things right.

He counts to ten, and she counts with him....continuing to count after he is finished...her head on his chest counting heartbeats.  Her fingers sliding up his inner thigh until he opens his eyes, catching her hand in his own, and asks her to stop.  She always stops. He always wishes she hadn't. They always fight this battle between dark and daylight....

Gryphons In The Midnight, hard to touch and harder to turn away from....

 

She never leaves him. She never stops trying. She never moves from the foot of his bed. She belongs there.

 

 

 

Gryphons In Winter

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