He held it in his palm - cupped, curled.
"It's harmless," he promised.

I stood... frozen, watching.
"I don't like this."

Mostly to himself, he chuckled.

"You're so damn beautiful. Even when you're as worried as you are."

Toward his mouth, he began to lift his right hand.

"Wait," I whispered, taking a step closer.

We were so close in proximity, the tips of our noses nearly brushed.

He peered into my eyes... a stare like molten lava.
I felt my insides liquifying.

"Don't."
I begged this of him, but I was too breathless - not loud enough for him to hear me. That must have been why he proceeded.

Onto his tongue, two tablets fell.
I gulped along with him. There was an aching in my own throat, as I watched his Adam's apple bob.

"I've got one pill left," he offered. "It's yours, if you want it. I can halve it."

I shook my head... partly in response to his offer, and partly in disgust.
Silently, across the hotel carpet, I turned on my feet to walk away.

"Hey, come here," he murmured, reaching for my bicep.

I kept moving.

"Come here, darling."
He held on a little tighter.

I shrugged him off of me, and got three steps further away.
He took hold of my arm again - firmer now, but still gentle.

"Please don't go," he begged. "You've just arrived. I've not seen you in six months."

"All the more reason to not do this," I whispered. "Why would you even want to? This isn't you."

"I just wanted to feel good," he said, looking to his watch.

Always watching the clock.
The minute hand controlled us both.

Why couldn't we just stay in?

Always something to do. Always with other people. Always going out.
Always looking for more than what I could give on my own.

I swallowed harshly.

My hands were growing cold, and beginning to lose color.
I dipped my blue-tinged fingers into the pockets of my favorite sweatshirt.
Well, his jumper, technically.

Black... Adidas logo across the front. Baggy on my body.

"I want you to feel good," I said quietly. "I just want to be the one who gives that feeling to you."

"You are," he swore. "You do make me feel good. Fuck's sake, you make me feel like I'm Superman. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean any harm. You're finally here and I'm just trying to celebrate... have a bit of fun with you."

"A 'bit of fun' that will kill you," I replied.

The shine that had been in his brown eyes seemed to grow dimmer in that moment. I hated the thought that, soon enough, these eyes - that I'd fallen irreversibly in love with - would be dilated beyond recognition.

"Look, it won't hurt me," he swore. "Quite the opposite. It feels so good. Like a warm glow all over. No pain."

I stared into him, faltering.

"No pain at all. That's why I think you'd like it, as well," he added. "But you don't have to. Do as you wish. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I want you to feel completely at home with me."

Silence once more.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It feels like all I ever do is screw up and hurt you."

I sucked in a sharp breath.
It felt as though someone was slowly draining the room of oxygen.

"I love you so much," he murmured, softer yet.

When I didn't instantly reciprocate the notion, he looked to his feet.
The vulnerability in his blood had turned his cheeks into a light crimson.

"Leave if you want to, then. If you don't feel the same anymore, I--"

Of course I love you, I thought.
Why would you ever think otherwise?

I love you enough to wear you on my body, on my skin.

I love you enough to cross continents.

I love you enough to be a complete fucking idiot.

I love you enough to be a hypocrite.

I love you enough to kill every cell in my body, slowly.

You once told me that I'm the most stubborn woman you've ever met, but I love you enough to give up, or give in... whichever might come first.

Because, if you're an addict, I'm an addict.

"Where's the other pill?" I asked.

He stood there, momentarily dumbfounded, before reaching into the drawer of the nightstand.

"Going to flush it?" he asked, while handing it over.

"No," I whispered, just before popping it into my own mouth, whole.

Whole pills and halved senses of self-control.
Whole love and half a physical presence.

If you love drugs more than me, I want to know how it tastes - scraping my tonsils and swimming in my blood.
I want it to alter my mind, allowing me to forget that I cannot compete.

I want to feel exactly what you feel.

I'll take into my body whatever you take into yours.

And if you die, I want to die with you.

I wish you had loved me enough, 
to ask me to stop.