It was just ten in the evening, but you were already sleepy. You stretched your body in the middle of a yawn. You rubbed your eyes with grace, donning a sleepy grin. I let you sleep, even if I did not like it. I let you go, even if I did not want to.
When the clock hit midnight, I turned off the light. By the light of the moon outside the open window, I witnessed the tranquility of your face. At last, you will be free. Even if I did not like it. Even if I did not want to.
Since the beginning, you had not been mine. I had borrowed you from someone who did not desire you any longer. But within his embrace, you returned. Beneath my longing for you, you left.
I held the filled, hot cup of coffee and sipped on its bitter taste. Upon the shuddering lips, down to wounded throat of thirst.
It was already one in the morning. I hoped the dawn would not rise.
This is a loose translation of the story I published yesterday. I had written it in my mother-tongue language before I tried to translate it in English. If you would like to read the original post, you could just click the link after this text. Thank you.
WORD COUNT: 173
Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.