Bleeding Mosaic
The tears that bled down her cheeks filled the cracks in his broken soul almost sealing the shattered shards into a mosaic of fragmented beauty. Then he knew, as did she that they were both now complete. Replete with this strange kind of connection which they could call love but no, it was more. It was like the merging of souls. The filling of voids, the interlocking of minds, the exchange of psyches and the creation of a whole new being. It was torture, it was terror and at the same time it was all they both ever wanted, needed or desired. And so they chose to venture down this path, each knowing the chance of the other betraying was real but not possible, each knowing that they would kill or die for each other while being murdered by each other daily. And Lord what would they do? Yet it was worth it. God damn it they had suffered alone too hard and too long. They needed this or so they decided. And that choice was what made all the difference to both of them. It mattered not what happened before, and what was to come was yet to be seen. But together they would see it. They decided as it had been decided for them before. It was written in their souls as much as it was foreseen in the stars. And in this instance, they merely aided and abetted fate as it was something they both willed, wanted, wielded and finally relented. It would not be easy and God forbid they stumble off this path, but it would be. And it is.
