The house was serene and empty. Whilst the harsh winds howled outside, the thick, heavy curtains and the roaring fire kept the cold at bay, the only sound within the house was the ticking of the mantle clock and the creaking of the floor boards as I paced the room.
It had been weeks since I had last seen James, if not months. Yet something deep in the pit of my stomach told me that I would see him tonight. After what seemed like hours I resigned myself to the fact he wasn't coming and retired to my bed. Distinguishing the fire I caught a glimpse of a dark shadow that fleeted past me, too quick for my eye to follow - it was gone. The house seemed lonely now as I climbed the stairs, it missed the laughter that used to ring out through every room, it missed the festivities, the parties and the smiles, it missed James.
When James had gone out that night to play snooker with his friends I did not imagine it to be the last time I would get to wrap my arms around him, rest my head on his chest and listen to his heart beating. Nor did I imagine that I would never feel his soft, hot breath on the back of my neck or his warm, tender lips crush against mine again. Yet that night all of that and more was taken from me, yet whatever had hurt James that night had left part of him behind. A piece of him which lurked in shadows, and appeared magicly, a piece of him which belonged to me.


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