November 11, 2013
He hugged me tightly to his chest. My eyes followed him as he released me and he made his way around the bed. He rummaged in one of the nightstands then came back and stood directly in front of me. He had a little pocket knife that he was unfolding. He took my hand in his and curled all but my index finger into a fist. He appeared very solemn as I looked into his eyes trustingly. I drew a deep breath as he made just the slightest incision on the very tip of my finger. I could see a tiny streak of blood and as he gave my finger a gentle squeeze it grew into a little round bubble. He closed his eyes and brought my finger to his lips. My heart fluttered and I sensed a subtle pull on my insides, like my soul was reaching out to him. I felt faint as he took my finger away and folded my arm to my chest.
“There,” he said, “now you will be a part of me forever.”
I smiled happily and cherished the thought away. He took the little knife again and performed the same procedure on his own fingertip. A sudden wave of fear took hold of me, knowing there was some finality lurking behind our exchange. I closed my eyes, just as he had done and took his fingertip to my lips.
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