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Still Life

Microfiction

By Delaney HowardPublished about a year ago 1 min read
Still Life
Photo by Ganapathy Kumar on Unsplash

Redolent with sex, fading perfume, and… wine? Ah, yes, the dark stain on the rug. The scents combined as she returned to their nest. In the moonlight, raven-wing lashes spread over his cheekbones, some dark curls plastered to his forehead where perspiration had stuck them and then dried. She eased around him, his skin soft as a blanket over firm muscles. She couldn’t resist the urge to run her fingers through those dark curls. His eyes lazily half-opened, and the world faded away. He tucked her against his chest, she was consumed by a love that could not be duplicated.

Love

About the Creator

Delaney Howard

Writer of romantic suspense, and apparently fiction of other varieties too. Reader of all the words, theater nerd, liberal, teacher, wife, dog-mom, optimist. http://www.delaneyhowardwriter.com/

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    Delaney HowardWritten by Delaney Howard

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