Lovers Under Ash

We Shall Never Part

I smiled as I traced his delicate face, trying to free it from some of the ash that had covered it. He only smiled back, observant eyes concentrating on me. "This is it," he spoke, almost remorsefully. I nodded, looking above as ash rained onto us while we lay here. It felt as if we were solitude in this world. We were free to be who we are. I heard him laugh, and I glanced back, seeing a shimmer in his beautiful brown eyes.  He was thinking about something. I always adored when he was like this. 

"What is it?"

"It seems almost fate that we get to lay beside one another today." He whispered, pulling me closer. I could smell him now, even over the scent of ash. He still smelled of the meal we had eaten, the smell of wine still heavy on his breath.

"It was as if we were meant to be here," I whispered, fingers grazing gently over his jaw, fingers intertwining in his beard. "It was always meant to be us two, my dear. I never once doubted that we would be together when the world seemed to fall apart."

"It could've cracked beneath our feet, and I know you would've held to my side and fell before you'd let even a god separate us." 

"They couldn't," I whispered. I, for just a moment, prayed the gods would forgive what I claimed, but I knew deep down that they couldn't. Not for a moment. 

He smiled, and I could feel his fingers in my hair, messing with the deep curls that lay dusted in fine whites and grey. But with the way he stared, the way his nose scrunched when he smiled,  he loved me just the same. 

"I never thought we'd get to lay here with the world around us burning... We get to lay here and smile..." I almost chuckled at the thought as he rolled to his side. I could hear the wheeze that erupted from his chest as he tried to breathe. 

"There will always be a certain beauty knowing that the world was set aflame, the world that you know, the one that you grew to love... and then watching from the center, smiling, watching as the flame and ash fall around you." 

I could tell his words grew weak and tiresome, but his love still burned. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his, letting my eyes close. Most would cry, I had heard it. Women, men, and children crying out, saying final prayers, calling out to those they love before they were buried. Some had to die alone, some died asleep, others died knowing that they were accomplished, others died before they could begin their journey. 

A saddened smile made its way onto my face as I stared at the man across from me. He tilted his head, and I couldn't help but giggle. "Thank you," he whispered. I stared, confused.

"Whatever for?"

"Loving me." The answer came simple, though much is simple for a dying man.

"It wasn't hard," I whispered. "Never once did I grow tired, never once did I feel it was a chore to love you. There are things that are meant to burn, and things that are meant to soar. Where the city burns, the love will soar high away from the flames!"

I heard him laugh, weaker than the last time he spoke. The ashes seemed to cover more of him now, blanketing us in heavy comfort, as if preparing us for our visit with death. "You were always such a kind man, my love... I see so clearly how well I did... How amazing my heart chose for me a man I would love..."

I let tears brim my eyes. "I was so lucky that it was you," I whispered. Though he knew. I would bathe him with gifts of love often. Fresh meat and crops, jewels, words of compassion and care. He would offer the same, even if he was more fond of placing forth compliments. I can't believe I lay here now, staring at his face, knowing we will die together, and be reunited in our life after. 

He placed an arm near me, offering it as a pillow. I eagerly accepted the offer, leaning as close as possible, one arm gentle to wrap around his waist. The other hand still traced his face, much like a greedy man would his treasure. Though, greed and love are much different. A greedy man will be burned and buried while his riches remain here, love will not be separated, even after the longest burial. 

"I love you," He whispered breathlessly. I smiled, tears flowing down my ash-covered face. I could see trails etched into the powder that stained his face too. "More than words could express, I do."

"And I love you," I spoke, my own chest growing tight. He laughed as if he was attempting to comfort me, telling me that it was going to be alright. I laughed too, throwing my head back, letting my teeth be bare to the world, telling the gods that not even they can defeat what love had built. And I kept laughing, even though ash filled my mouth and clogged my throat. This was the way I wanted to die. 

He hugged me closer, hand pressed firmly against my back as he held me. And finally, I saw those beautiful eyes close. But he still smiled, as if he had lost nothing more than something unimportant. I searched for whatever life he had left, and in the silence, I could hear the beat of a heart.

I leaned forward, tilting his face to meet mine, and I placed a kiss on his lips, holding it. It was there I realized, it was the beat of my own heart that I had heard, echoing through my head. Though, that did not matter now, for the world around me had slowly begun to fade from my vision, and as his heart had, mine too faded, and we were left laying alone in the rubble. The last thought that crosses my mind was of him, and there we lay once again, two lovers under ash.