Aurelian Salvatore:
The moment I reappeared inside my room, the silence swallowed me whole. All of that warmth I felt this morning, and the pleasure I felt yesterday, vanished into thin air, the second I landed on the cold floor of my cold, huge, yet empty room, the same room that was decorated with the most expensive one-of-a-kind furniture, felt cheap and empty because they weren't there in it.
It was suffocating in a way I hadn't expected, in a way I haven't experienced in my 150 years of living.
The air was still. Cold. Untouched.
Nothing here had changed.
Nothing here knew what I had done.
My fingers trembled at my sides. I curled them slowly into fists, staring at the familiar walls, the familiar furniture, the familiar emptiness that had been my only constant for so many years.
My bed stood exactly as I had left it.
Perfectly made.
Untouched.
Alone.
