She cannot stop pacing through the house. Searching for him in all the quiet. Every time she walks by his room, the cavern in her chest yawns wider. He was magic. She could never stop being unsplendid, but at least she had him with her. All the powder-keg potential a person could dream of, sometimes just inches from her. Enough to keep her fingers branching out toward anything she could find blooming tepid between them. And now that's gone.
