Enigma

by RuNyx

She knew how to exist with that loneliness—it was her constant companion. Everyone left, but it didn’t.

“Because life with you feels greater than death. Because you make the artist in me burn with the need to create, make the man in me burn with the need to possess, make the killer in me burn with the need to protect. You make me want to live, Salem. You give me a modicum of peace in a world of chaos.

Not a peck like the night of the bonfire, but a deep, possessive kiss that claimed him as hers in front of the world, the photographs of this moment under his painting immortalizing them too, as his arms came around her and consumed her, his need, his reverence, his love for her so palpable that the last of her ice melted, compelled by the heat of him.

Salem had always thought nothing could beat death, that nothing could be immortal. She’d been wrong. Love, deep, true love, was immortal.