Palms dripping with salty sweat, the phone slipped as fingers desperately caught it, putting it back against the ear. Eyes were growing hot, the tears threatening to fall – blinking several times hard. Voice cracking with every syllable of his name, only to be stumped by an increased yell from the other side with a whimper in reply – like a wounded dog. Fear masked rage as it bubbled with contempt at the edge of the mind. Every word cut like a serrated knife, and yet no blood, no pain.
“I am sorry.”
“You are not.”
“I am sorry.”
“Shut up.”
Couldn’t hate, couldn’t retort back sour, phone still pressed to the ear listening to heavily drawn breaths and anger. Couldn’t stop wondering how through all the seconds that felt like years, the vexation that coursed through the limbs, it still felt like bittersweet love – it felt like being in the warm cradle of Aphrodite herself while Hades strokes the skin.
