In a grand mansion, on a regal bed, an old man lies alone.
Trinkets and memories line the wall in smiles—both real and pretend.
He lived his life like he was supposed to. He did his honorable duty.
Tired and alone, he closes his eyes for what he hopes is the last time.
Pain shakes his body, and fear paralyzes him.
Fear. Sixty years had passed since he last felt fear.
Only a boy, he felt invincible.
The world tore him down, but he persistently beat fate.
Nothing could go wrong in those days. He was a boy.
They told him nothing comes to those who wait, so he waited.
He watched her smile and dance. He watched her shudder and cry.
Her tears burned hotter than the fire that danced in his hands.
Beautiful, he said. Strong. Perfect.
She cried on his shoulder, smoldering the skin underneath.
He would carry the scar on his march to death.
Time went on as they hid from the world—from the monsters.
Meshed together, he told her. With nervousness. And fear.
I love you. I need you.
Sixty years later, he lies alone in an empty bed.
His wife and children shuffling through the world she once danced in.
Fear grips him as he feels himself slowly drifting away.
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