His heart thundered, racing like a fast paced beating drum.
If he said her name in this moment, it would be like a prayer on his tongue, if he parted his lips it would be to plead. He never pleaded for anything, he could acquire what he wanted with the snap of a finger, but she was the delicate flower whose petals were soft and fragrant, and as she drifted into his colorless life, her fragrance permeated his heart, her colors illuminated the dark corner of hate he had kept himself clustered in all his life.
Maybe he hadn't really killed his heart in the past, maybe his heart had been waiting, patiently waiting for years and years till it found someone who taught it how to beat in the right way again.
His heart had been waiting for her.
