This little ficlet was the result of a challenge on the Beauty and the Beast list Kayla’s Caverns, so I had a go and this was the result. The story had to have the following eight words included. I think I got ‘em all …

Vincent
Tremble
Beauty
Lust
Desire
Goodbye
Romance
Relationship

I suppose this could be from ‘Though Lovers be Lost’, but make of it what you will. It’s rather-bitter-sweet, but it all works out right at the end.

I am he.

I am he who loves, treasures, worships all she is and more. She makes my soul sing, makes my very heart tremble.

I am he who fears the darkness that floods my being, the very pit of despair that sends lust like fire through my veins and drives me to seek the deep places of the earth, where I can roar my pain in the echoing silence.

I am he who sits and listens to her sweet, honeyed voice as she speaks the written word, the songs of love, the pages of tragic desire and the hymns of heartbreak … for that is what I hear. No romance, no truest heart, for my own heart breaks as I breathe the air and sweet perfume of her presence. She is my joy … and my doom.

I am he who sees her pain and holds her heart to mine, and feels her beauty tremble as she lies against my chest. I feel her very soul ache at the cruelty of this world, and our Bond is shaken by the sadness in this jewel I love.

For I do love her. My desire transcends all, my love drowns me in the pleasure of her being, she is all and everything to me. A relationship of bitter-sweet ecstasy, for I cannot have her for my own. I cannot. I will not. For she is free, and I …

I am Vincent.

I am he who lives in shadows, he who is fated to live and die in candle-glimmer and lonely echoes. For I know she loves me, but it cannot be …

But what is this?

A kiss!

She has kissed this benighted face, caressed my lips with velvet love and held my hands. These hands. Her hands, the hands she says could never leave a mark upon her fair and satin skin. She weeps sweet tears, and smiles her joy … for I am hers, she says, and holds me in her arms.

I am her life. Her cry of pain has brought me from a living death.

She cannot … will not, let me say goodbye, and holds me to her breast and calls my name … and kisses me once more.

For I am hers.

Forever and always …

I am … her Love.