He sat alone in the dimly lit room, staring down at the picture.He gently traced his finger over her face. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he muttered quietly to himself. His stormy grey eyes fluttered open again, and once more he looked down at the photo that lay in his lap. His lips curved slightly up into a small smile. She looked happy. Her golden hair flowed perfectly down and over her shoulders. Her fair skin and ocean blue eyes made her look like an angel, spotlighted by the bright sunlight that shone down on her.
This was the only photo he had left of her. He continuously traced his finger over her angelic face; her perfect complection.
And he missed her.
He wanted to be able to hold her, to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin.
He wanted to be able to hear her laughter; her voice.
She was like his oxygen. What he needed to live. His reason to live.
And he needed her.
But she was gone.
