[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019ce78b-b86e-7114-aafb-6ec810975bd4.webp[/img][/center] [color=Dimgray]The blades of grass rustled in the calm breeze, as the cool night time air crawled lazily around them. The moisture from the day hung heavy, and close. Occasionally there was a splash from the pond as a fish breached the glass like surface in an attempt at a midnight snack. They breathed together, as one. Connected by their hands in this shared moment, fingers intertwined. Slow and deliberate, a peace unbreakable. A moment frozen in time. He looked at her, and all he could see was the silhouette of her face. As if she was part of the Earth and the heavens themselves, the tip of her nose and the curve of her lips. He studied every millimetre of it. Then there were her eyes. Usually the most azure blue, cool and calm. They were alive with life, letting a contended breathe escaped him he followed their gaze. The heavens opened up before him, the vastness of space as the Milkyway and the cosmos beyond opened up for him. The spectrum of colours danced across the night sky, but the night was not calm. It was [i]alive[/i], as streaks of golden yellow light raced across the sky. Something so violent as a meteor shower transformed into something truly beautiful. Held in this moment, he felt her hand squeeze his. Three times, in a slow rhythmic pulse. Three words. Shared, but not spoken. The risk of breaking the spell was too great. He returned the sentiment, squeezing once. [i]I[/i]. Squeezing twice. [i]Love.[/i] Squeezing a third time. [i]You.[/i] There was nothing. His hand balled into a fist around the thin air, the warmth now gone. The cold clawed its way, burrowing itself deeper and deeper into its skin. The wind howled as dark clouds blotted out the sky. He sat up, looking for where she was supposed to be. Where she had always been, his hand running over the blanket chasing the warmth. The soft woolen blanket turned coarse. Pain shot up his arm as the angry fabric began to tear through his skin, his mind flared with the agony and the pain but he persisted. Pushed harder, as the blanket became cooler and cooler till only one spot of warmth remained. With all his might he pushed - and the Earth opened up and swallowed him whole.[/color] The cold air hit Frank like a brick. His entire body siezed from the shock of the cold air entering his lungs as he gasped for air, through the pain he savoured it. As if it was his first, his eyes slowly adjusting to his surroundings. The sense of dread, of panic slipped away from his mind with the remaining grogginess of sleep. The sorrow however, the sorrow remained. An eternal scar, running deep. Reaching over to the coffee table, he lifted the mug of ice-cold coffee and without a seconds hesitation raised it to his lips and forced it down. The bitter liquid easing the dryness out of his throat, but adding a momentary spike of pain in his head. The pain was good, the pain let him know he was alive. He was concious, that this was the real world. Swinging his legs off the edge of the sofa he groaned as he rubbed his face with his hand, his joints were stiff and sore. As if they rebelled against this notion of leaving the blanket, of his feet touching the cold and hard floor of the cabin. A thin smile crossed Franks face as he heard the telltale pitter patter of little feet, followed by the wet nose against his palm before the silky smooth bump as Dog nuzzled his hand, brushing up against his legs. Frank allowed himself a moment to pat Dog on the side, saving the sensation of touching something warm and alive. A scratch behind the ear and they both stood up, he did it slightly more unceremoniously. Grunting as he did so, allowing himself a moment to stretch. Stretching his muscles along his spine as he reached into the air, vertibrates cracking and popping as he did so. Dog did the same before moving over to his food bowl, and sitting before it in his attempt at subtlety. Frank shuffled over, picking up his plate from the previous night and poured probably unhealthy portions of salisbury steak into the bowl on the floor. Giving Dog a pat on the head as he placed the plate in the pile by the sink. He had never wanted a Dog. [i]They[/i] had wanted a dog. Frank would never allow it. Oh things were too unstable, or they were about to move home, or were they really responsibile enough to have a dog? All the stupid reasons. The reasons that didn't matter anymore. So when Dog had visited him that day, when his life was at an end - Well. Dog had made that decision for both of them, the reasons didn't really matter anymore.