They were back as he knew they would be. He felt their restlessness in the shadows, waiting to come out. With a smile, he poured himself another glass. A glass of what, he didn’t know, and frankly he didn’t care. Anything to deepen those shadows. Then she would come. He downed the drink thirstily, some dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He wiped his chin impatiently and filled his glass once again.
She came to him every night, sometimes in the day too. He would take his first sip and sense the familiar flicker in the shadows, a swirl of colour, and a low hum of hundreds of butterflies buzzing. Some times blue, sometimes red, they always seem to accompany her. A few times just the butterflies had appeared. They had fluttered around him and the soft brush of their wings had made him wonder if they would leave a streak of blue on his cheek.
He would lie on the bed with his eyes closed and wait for the wings to brush his lips. Her kisses. He knew that she will not come unless he drank enough. She was there the shadows, watching, urging him with her kohl dark eyes, to have one more drink. He could hear her whisper full of need and wondered whose need it was. His or hers. The butterflies swirled around him, red, blue, yellow...
Just one hour away from her city. One hour had stretched into one day and then one night. He didn’t have the courage to go further. It was so peaceful here, in this hotel by the highway. He stood in his window high above the ground, and looked at the road stretched out towards the city. He could almost smell her in the air. He wasn’t sure why he was here. What exactly did he hope to achieve. He had forfeited the game by quitting half way. Now this was her city, her kingdom. He was an outsider. But since he had left her, he had been an outsider where ever he went. Was he going home? Where was home? He didn’t know anymore.
Then it started to make sense to him. He didn’t have to enter the city. It was enough for him to know that she was just an hour away, or maybe just a bottle away. He poured himself yet another glass. Here He was in charge. She was his to summon, his to take. Her arrogance left behind she will come as a woman desperately in love. This room, this bottle, this glass, it all made so much sense. All he needed to do was to take one more drink.
He felt the shadows around him getting darker. He could feel the restless movement of the butterflies, then swish of silks, a subdued tinkle of anklets, her fragrance. He tried to open his eyes, but someone gently closed them, with a soft caress on his cheek. He gratefully surrendered to the knowledge that she was here. He felt the glass touch his lips and drank thirstily. Sinking back with a sigh he was content to feel her fingers on his face, her warm lap cushioning his head as the mists enveloped him……
A whisper brought him out of his stupor. She was making her excuses and vanishing as always. He opened his eyes in panic, not today, not now. She will have to take him with her. He implored her, trying to hold her in his arms but she kept eluding him like a dream. Amidst the cloud of butterflies she got up, reached the window and looked back at him mistily as he implored her. He scrambled out of the bed and rushed to her. With a smile she beckoned and holding his hand in a tight clasp stood with him on the ledge. The butterflies exploded in a riot of colours as he felt his toes leave the ledge.
[I need help with this one. Don't know if it works. Reader's comments will be most helpful.]