She indulged me, I am not sure I have done her s speck of any good, but I love her. She is a smart girl, much more than she realises, not a dreamer, but a realist. So Idid not coat her in false words and promise that she would see straight through, I just told her how it was and will be. From my point of view at least, perhaps it will help, but I think more, she just indulged me.

I have written of loss many times, but for this time I will not. My loss is my own, and that way it will stay this time.

Im going to leave the rose between the sheathes of parchment, its sweet scent will tint the pages from here on in. A reminder that though we cannot always have what we wish, the wish is always there. I worry, so much. I hope he is okay, I want to share in whatever ails him and help him with it. But again, words ring hollow and always seem so blatantly meaningless.

We are playing a game, the thief and I. One that I am almost sure is, though fun, it brings us both a sense of pain also. We are fools in reality. It is much longer than a day or two this time. It is cruel in its nature, but..due to recent circumstances for us both..just that little bit crueler. Our prides will not allow us to let go, though now is when I guess..we should give in most. At least, for the simple things, to feel his arms around me. I would pay a lifetime of bells for it, just for that little sense of comfort. The gentle touch.
[COLOR=white]*between the pages lays a soft red rose*[/COLOR]