Gone

Patricia waltzed, staring into the bottomless eyes of Emilio. This was not him, it was not Phillip. She would forfeit her soul for Phillip and die a thousand times just to be in his arms again, and not once ever for the demon that was her dance partner tonight. She closed her eyes as she danced, refusing to lose herself in the depths and curvatures of his face. She stared into nothing, seeing Phillip’s face dance before her. She imagined him in Emilio’s place, laughing and twirling her. His eyes were ripe with the endless love he felt for her. They were large, circular spheres, like cherries. She blinked her eyes open and was almost brought to tears by the world around her. Emilio smiled a sick, fiendish grin, bearing his teeth as if they were fangs.
“Lady Channing, I assume you are enjoying my company?” His snake tooth smile lashed out at her like an invisible rifle firing a bullet to her heart, piercing her soul. A single tear escaped her before she could compose herself. There was no need to act so foolishly. Phillip was not coming back. She’d seen the dagger in his heart and felt it in her own. She’d felt his cold, ivory skin, lost the capacity to carry his rampant life. She’d shaken him like the fate of the universe depended on it, her universe needed him, and he’d still not woken. If the spilt blood on the cobble-stoned ground was not evidence enough, then the tears she’d bled onto his fine brow may silence any doubts. The imaginary world around her suddenly started spinning at a hundred times the music’s tempo. The last thing she heard was the sound of Emilio’s devious laughter before the Earth died, quickly disappearing into the thin ether that composed it.