The Eyes Never Lie

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He lay still, the sheets seeming heavy over his body. Beside him, her breathing even and heavy, she slept peacefully, snuggled beneath the blankets that weighted so on him. Eyes burning with unshed tears, he rolled onto his side abruptly, eliciting a disturbed moan from her, which quickly subsided into silence. His hand, laying beside his damp pillow, slowly clenched into a fist, rumpling the sheets. His eyes bore into the darkness of their bedroom, ears focused on her even breathing. Memories flooded his mind, images swam before his eyes. The memory of the fight the previous night, after the fateful phone call from her professor, the questions, then the accusations, the yelling, curses, and tears. He buried his face in the pillow, scalding tears welling up despite his best efforts to hold them back. It was with effort that he repressed the urge to pound his fist against the mattress. Rage built in him as he thought back to the words they had both spoken, and he fought back another urge, a darker one that brought the taste of bile to his mouth. Gagging, he flung back the covers, no longer caring if he woke her, and staggered into the bathroom. A glass of cool water soothed the taste and his stomach, and moments of deep breathing sitting on the edge of the tub cooled his temper somewhat. A glance in the mirror, which reflected her robe hanging up, rekindled it, and he flung the glass aside. Plastic, it fell harmlessly to the floor. A red film seemed to cover his eyes, and his hands clenched on the countertop.

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Sitting on the edge of the rumpled bed, his head in his hands, he tried to control his shaking. His eyes, bloodshot now, stared at the floor, avoiding the scene around him. The torn pillows shed battered feathers over the carpet, like snowflakes on black velvet. In the bathroom, the shattered mirror reflecting crazy images of white tile and dripping red. The body, slumped in the bathtub, the shower curtain pulled violently down to cover the desicration of the still form. His hands trembled as he regarded the floor, and his heart jumped into his throat as the phone rang. Hesitantly, glancing at the bathroom, he picked it up, only to hear the tones of her professor coming from the reciever. Flicking another glance to the bathroom, he grimaced, and placed it to his ear. " Yeah honey, I'm here."

-- Angel (keita@my.sanguinus.com), July 27, 2002

Answers

A bit disturbing...

-- Kant (kant@kant.com), September 22, 2002.

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