Through the mists and the biting frost, a dark shadow walked the same steady route every night. The only graveyard in the area, which had been there for hundreds of years, was kept on the outer edge of town hidden behind a small wood but spanning tens of acres. The same silent path through the woods and into the garden of stone. She had come here every night for years. She felt like she knew every person that now slept peacefully in the field of granite and marble. She thought she could feel the spirits watch her stroll by and she knew that they were glad for the company. The night was almost completely dark, but the moon had began to wax anew. The frost in the grass crunched lightly under the trudging of her high leather boots. The wind crept smoothly around the statues of saints and angels and wound its way around obelisks and sepulchers. The shadowed girl hugged her long leather coat close to her body to keep out the wind's sting, her long wool scarf drifted behind her like a black standard of sadness. The girl's long, straight, black hair settled beautifully around her shoulders and framed her face which was smooth and well defined. Her chin slanted perfectly towards her ears and her cheekbones rose with it. Her smooth skin was the palest of ivory and it seemed to be transparent, glowing with a dewy complexion. The girl slowed her pace to a gentle walk and breathed out slowly, watching the mist of her breath rise slowly to the sky. She came to the enormous Gothic mausoleum where she spent her nights. This town cemetery had become the home of every person that the girl had known and loved. She had seen all of her dearest friends put to rest in this hallowed ground. Even her own parents slept with the rest of her family in the mausoleum where she sat. The family vault, as it had become, was large enough for it to have a grand covered stoop that sheltered the girl from the cold. The vault ran underground as a small catacomb in which the dead made their final rest. The girl thought that she had been the one that brought death upon these people; that somehow, her mere presence and love for them sent them to another world without her. She had become accustomed to the loneliness and the grief in her life, and now she made the journey every night to sit in the alcove of her family's tomb and spend the time she had in the darkness with the memories of her loved ones. The girl pulled her legs up on the ledge where she sat, stretched out, and leaned against the stone door frame. She let her satin lined coat fall open and surround her legs so that she could move them freely without scraping them on the stone. The open coat revealed that she wore a long, flowing skirt and a tight brocade corset that revealed her well endowed cleavage and pale, milky skin. The sound of the wind though the trees and the soft hooting of an owl in the distance relaxed her as she sat looking out over the monuments that barely swam into her vision. Sitting for a long while in the darkness and silence drifted her into a dreamlike loss of time. Gazing at the statues and obelisks nearby, she heard a faint sound in the distance. If she had suspected that there was someone in the cemetery with her, she would have concluded that it sounded like a foot on frost, but she thought it was just a night animal or more obviously, that she was hearing things. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tiny flash of grayish green-blue far in the distance.. at least, she thought she did.. or did she? The moon was playing tricks on her and she had merely seen a sparkle from the granite that surrounded her. That was it. Or was it? She wrapped her coat around her legs and pulled them up to her chin. She wanted to disappear into the darkness of the mausoleum's cove. The soft crunching of frost and gravel came again from the path which she had followed earlier. She pressed herself into the dark corner of the tomb's porch and waited as the footsteps drew softly near behind her. She did not dare to peek around the corner, for though she was used to the graveyard, she was not used to other people there at night and thought for sure it was the keeper come to enforce the rule that it was forbidden to enter the cemetery after dusk. She had simply disregarded the sign because nobody could tell her when she could or could not visit her loved ones. The footsteps soon came passing by her vault, but it was not the keeper at all.
A tall figure trudged past the mausoleum. She could not tell if it was male or female, because like her, they were wearing a long leather trench. When they had passed, the girl got up slowly and creeped to the other side of the stoop. She peered out from around the wall and saw the figure disappear into the darkness before she could make out any more details. Curiosity getting the best of her, she slipped down from the ledge and creeped slowly to a nearby statue of an elegant angel, making sure not to make a single sound. She went from monument to gravestone trying to stay on the stone as to stay silent. She followed the path until she saw the figure again stopped in front of a large statue of a beautiful, Gothic angel whose hair and dress billowed in a wind that only the angel felt. She saw at once that the it was a he and that he was tall. From the back, all she could see was that his hair was short and dark and looked like it had been spiked. His shoulders were broad and firm and his back and waist seemed slim under his coat. She knelt for quite some time behind a large granite cross watching him as he stared up at the angel's face. He stood there for a long while, and her legs grew tired of keeping herself still and balanced. He let out a sigh, breaking the silence and startling the girl so much that she almost fell over. Crouching this long had made her knees hurt badly and her boots had not helped much. She tried to shift her weight but her boot turned slightly on the wet grass where the frost had melted under her and made an almost silent squeak. The boy whipped around suddenly and caught sight of her hand peeking over the edge of stone before she could even think of pulling it back. Startled at the thought of someone there with him, spying on him for longer than he was comfortable with, he froze to the spot and stared. She wanted so badly to now see him from the front but fearing his wrath of her spying, she hid, eyes wide and panicked at her being discovered. His voice rang out in the night, softly but with a deep intent. It was a warm sort of male voice that intimidated the girl.
" Who's there? Show yourself. "
Instantly she adored the tone of his voice. It was dark and sultry and seemed to cause a blush in her cheeks. She had spent countless hours of her life reading old texts and languages and loved voices that reminded her of her fantasies. She was shaking all over but she knew she had to speak to him. Something in his voice made her stand slowly and look at this man who had shown up so randomly in her midst. She tucked a lose piece of hair behind her ear and stepped out from behind the gravestone. Looking into his face, she did not know if she would be able to answer him. His face was angled and strong. His features were perfected with full, soft lips and his cheekbones were high. His skin was as pale as hers and indeed his hair was black and spiked. She now realized what the gray-blue flash she had seen was: his eyes were a glowing mixture of gray, green, and blue and they flashed as he looked at her. His jacket had fallen open to reveal that he was wearing a tight black shirt and jeans. Peeking from under his jeans were large boots and in his hand was a scarf that was just like hers. He stared back at her, noticing her full dewy lips, her breasts straining against the corset that she had bound so tightly to restrain them, and the height and curve of her figure.
" I...My name is...Tamora " she stuttered.
Her voice was as sweet and thick as honey and as smooth as fine porceline. The warmth and sorrow in her voice sent chills up his spine.
" I am called Varden. " It was all he could manage as he was captured by her beauty.
" I'm sorry that I startled you.." she began, " but I'm not used to seeing anyone here at this time. "
" I understand.. It's just that I didn't expect you either. Why are you here? " he asked.
She rolled her eyes at this, " Do I have to have a good reason? Or, do you just always jump to being so nosy? "
" I'm sorry! " he laughed, " It's a bad habit! "
" Well, to answer your question, I come here every night that I can to visit my passed family and friends.. You see, My parents died when I was young but old enough to know the difference... and it seems that all of my friends and loved ones follow them. " she replied softly.
He stepped closer to her, "I'm so sorry.. but I understand how you feel.. I came here to visit my sister.. this is where she rests. " he said and gestured towards the angel behind him.
Tamora looked up into the peaceful face of the angel." Please don't be sorry for me.. but I do feel sympathy for your sister.. I never had a sister.. nor a brother for that matter. Everyone I loved died before they got too close to me.. I still have no clue why. "
Varden stepped even closer to her. " Well, since we are both here for similar reasons, I see no sense in spending this time alone.. You enchant me, Tamora, and that's a rare thing. "
She looked at him with sorrow in her face. " I'm sorry.. But I cannot be friends with you.."
" Why not? " he implored.
" I could not bear to have another grave to visit on these nightly trips. " she said quietly and looked away from him. She knew that the longer she took him in, the more she would wish for his company and she felt she could not take another loss.
" Trust me.. there is nothing to worry about.. I will not die.. you must trust me.. I want to have the pleasure of your company and it is rare that I ever do that. "
She looked up at him again. What did he mean, trust him? How was he so smart to think he wouldn't die? He was defiantly in denial, she concluded. Looking into his face again however, she could not resist. " Very well.. I haven't had company in a while either, so.. why not? "
" Excellent " he smiled. Her knees buckled a little from his smile but she told herself she was just getting over the shock of being found. He held his hand out to her, but she did not take it. Still unsure of his fate, she still distanced herself from him as they turned to walk down the path.
They walked throughout the cemetery and talked of their families and friends. Being unusually open with each other, Tamora learned that Varden had come from far away to visit his sister. He had left after her death without a trace. Now that he was back, he had learned that his parents had died from the grief of losing their two children. Varden had wandered alone for many years consoling himself with the ale and companionship at stops along his travels. He had loved his sister more than anyone in the world and blamed himself for her death. She had loved horses but their parents would not allow her to be in the stables for fear she get hurt. Varden had allowed her to accompany him to the stables anyway and soon gave her a beautiful white mare of her own. He taught her how to ride and take care of the mare. In the stable, however, one of the grooms had fevers and consumption but had hidden his condition and cough as old age. The tiny girl caught disease and died soon after. Varden blamed himself for not saving her. He thought it was his fault for disobeying his parents. Thereafter, Tamora told him of her parents. They had been the aristocrats of the town. Her parents had never spent much time with her until she came down with fever herself. They wore themselves thin to save her, staying by her bedside, waiting on her needs, bringing the best doctors. Soon, the stress and sadness became too much for her mother, and weakened, had caught the fever as well. She died as Tamora was recovering. Her father could not live without his wife for he had loved her above all things. They found him dead in his office a week later with a vial of poison in one hand and a letter to Tamora in the other. She was to keep the mansion located on the other side of the wood and the money. She used it to keep herself out of work and painted for hobby. Her love life had been just as desolate: She had never felt the touch of a lover nor the love of a man.
Tamora had decided to take Varden's hand during their walk and they now walked with Varden's arm around her waist. They came to a large statue of Venus. It was easily one of the largest statues in the cemetery and it stood on a pedestal large enough for two people to lie upon. It had been one of Tamora's favorite places to paint during the day and another favorite to rest at night. She stopped at the statue and climbed up to sit on the ledge. He followed suit and sat with her. Both sat in silence for a while. Tamora dangled her feet and looked at the ground.
" Tamora.." Varden began.
" Yes?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.
" This night.. has given me much pleasure. I thank you for spending it with me" he said softly.
" I should thank you" she smiled.
" Well.. I have enjoyed your company much, and I wish to cherish it." he said. He lifted her chin slowly and kissed the corner of her mouth. She closed her eyes and did not resist him. He felt her consent and kissed her lips softly. She looked at him and smiled. Tamora could not explain the feeling in her stomach. It was as if a million butterflies were frantically trying to escape from within her. Gently, he opened the top hook of her busk. Slowly, he kissed down her neck, down her shoulders, and back across her collar bone. He kissed the tops of her breasts softly as he unhooked more and more of her busk. She sighed, feeling his warm breath and gentle kisses graze her skin. When he had completely opened the front of her corset, he gently took if off of her and set it aside. Varden shook his jacket off and spread it on the cold stone. He ran his cool hands up her bare back and felt the warmth between her skin and the satin of her jacket. Tamora shuddered at his touch. He smiled and laid her down as he kissed her breasts and stomach. She arched her back slightly to allow his hands under her back and drew sharp breaths as he continued to kiss all of her exposed skin. He took his hands from under her and ran them over her bare chest, feeling the weight of her curves in his hands. Gently, he then kissed her hard nipples. He put his hands back under her and lifted her to him once more. He pushed her jacket off and let it drop behind her. Standing in front of her he pulled her up to him. Varden took her jacket and spread it out with his, creating a comfortable place for them. Taking Tamora into his arms, he hugged her shivering body close to him, taking in the scent of her hair and the heat she was emitting. Turning her around, he unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down her legs, kissing down her back and legs as he did. After she stepped out of the skirt, he set it to the side and lifted her back up onto the jackets. He unzipped her boots and set them aside as well. Tamora finally found the courage to reach down and pull his shirt over his head. She drew her hands down his chest until she came to the top of his pants which she began to open. He kissed her passionately and brushed his fingertips lightly down her shoulders and arms. Sitting beside her, Varden reached down and took off his boots. Tamora pushed him down playfully and continued to kiss him. He sat back up, laughing at her courage and pulled of his own pants. This had been the most she had ever seen a man in undress and she looked at him uncertainly. There was something about the man in nothing but black silk that made her hesitate to touch this shrine of her newly found desire. Sensing her hesitation, Varden laid Tamora back down and began kissing down her body. He hooked her panties with his fingers and pulled them off. In her modesty she tried to cover herself, crossing her legs and covering her womanhood with her hand, blushing. Pulling her arm away gently, he reassured her again and again that she was beautiful. Varden kissed her tummy and down her thighs. She held her breath as he kissed more and more. Sighing and moaning, she was surprised at a new pleasures he offered her. It was not something she would have expected but she did not resist. She pulled him to her lips and kissed him with a hunger she did not know she had.
That night, the two had found pleasure and company in each other that they did not know existed. As the gray light that comes before sunrise appeared, Tamora woke with a start. The cold of the morning had set in and she was wet with more than the dew of the dawn. Shivering, she looked around, regaining her wits. Varden was not beside her and his clothes were all gone. Tamora wondered frantically if it had all been a dream. She knew though that she was naked and sore from his passion. It had not been a dream. Now fully awake she looked in her hands at what she had been clutching to her naked body for warmth: Varden's jacket. He was gone. Wearing nothing but his jacket and zipping her boots back on, she made for home with tears streaming down her cheek as the sun rose behind her.
Author: TheUnLoved
