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In a strange, gentle way, I guess I've always known him. True, we've never spoken, never felt the other's skin in a tremble. Never crossed paths in any way than to walk across the marble tiles in succession, like some childhood game.
I feel that we've been friends all along, floating along the course of events that each day bring us together, a long lost romance of unspoken tongues, pulling each of us across the polished floor to sit beside each other to hold a foreign yet familiar soul.
With the slightest of gestures, he flicks his eyelids upwards, his eyes lighting in blue flames; flames of passion, flames of remembrance. When his gaze is set on me, I flush with fear - fear that I'll stand and glide across the floor like a feather on a glassy calm lake. Fear that no matter how hard I fight to repress the very nature of my being, that there will be another notch on the bedpost caked in blood.
The train sounds its last warning, bidding me to come be wrapped in its safe, speeding asylum. The people all around float like phantoms; their gauzy shapes piling together into one super-human protector, warning him not to look, not to think, not to wish to come over.
The blue flames surround me, licking greedily at my flesh. Can he see? Does he know how I long to touch his flesh, this one I have selected?
Yes, I followed him here, as I've done each day before for a fortnight. Yes, I want a taste of what lies within.
Courage, now, I can smell it on him. In the last words that resound in my head, I pray to whoever can hear me that he will not be another regret.
My jaw, feeling the anticipation, aches fiercely as it hasn't done for ages. Each step grows louder, the eyes grow fiercer and the flames higher.
The last second my thought are not on his throat, I scream, hearing the screams of those before me, locked in a hell only hunters will know.
My body tenses and I am received not like a reaper, but as an equal.
"Come, child, we have much to discuss."