He Left Me Alone

58

He looked just the same. Except now, his skin was cold. Death had sucked out the warmth, along with him.

"Logan," I reached for his hair, stroking it gently from his eyes. "Please move so I know you're not dead."

But all I heard was the sound of something burning in my ears.

"Please, anything," I hesitantly reached for his hand, and just held it in mine hard enough to turn my hand purple. I didn't care how cold his hand was.

Tired for not getting any answer, I moved my head closer to his ear, and whispered, " Logan, please, say something. Anything."

Nothing happened. What a fool of me to even think that he would wake up anytime soon and just hug me and kiss me and make everything alright again. I started to feel water coming out of my eyes. I didn't wipe them. I just let the hot tears stream down my face.

There I was, crying. Begging him to come back. For just one more second. One more word. One more kiss. One more chance. One more him.