Looking at the maiden from afar had never been as painful as this.
Close enough to hold...
And still, too far away. Forever now, she was too far away.
Never had the maiden been so battered and bruised as she was.
Black were her eyes, lilac were her cheeks; droplets of shimmering scarlet still dribbled from a mouth agape.
She was breathing.
I knew that.
I could tell when they were breathing.
She was alive, my maiden fair, and on any other occasion, that would have been enough for me. Our lips would've met, our flesh collided in an embrace far sweeter than any she'd have experienced in her life.
For once, details would not have mattered.
She would not be a mere peasant, and I would not be royalty. She would not be just hired help, but a human. And I would not just be female, but suitable to be her lover.
But, alas, where were we?
Dwarf corpses were located in seven places throughout the small, warm house. It wasn't my fault.
I had needed to see her, and they were a barrier.
My cold hand connected with her yellowing, bruised cheek. These wounds had been recently inflicted, that I knew. The dwarves...disgusting. Undoubtedly, they had done this.
I would've killed them twice.
Had I still a beating heart, it would've been pounding as I stroked her warm skin, my hand trailing from her cheek down to her expanding throat, as she breathed in, then out again.
My thumb found it's way to the sweet spot beneath her chin. If I pressed hard enough, I could kill her.
I could kill her and kiss her and she would be undead and so very much my own.
Should I kiss her now, and she awake...living...breathing...alive...what would she do?
But should I kill her and let her join the ranks, move into the afterlife...
And wake her, with our awaited embrace, our intertwining of souls--lie to her, tell her I found her dead, murdered by the dwarves that had beaten her to near that point on countless occasions before allowing her to eat an apple at trapped her within the confines of eternity, just as the plague of death began to wipe out the kingdoms of the land...
And they had killed me...
She would never know.
Pressure found it's way to my thumb, pressing tighter, ever tighter.
If she ever found out I stole her humanity, she would hate me.
Beautiful as she was, she would hate me.
This was our chance.
Her sleeping body twitched and her bleeding lips gasped for air.
If my tear-ducts had not long been rotten, I may have cried.
This was our happily-ever-after.