He crawled on the bed, sweat dripping from his face and neck. Under his hands and knees, the sheets slowly slipped onto the floor. She smiled at him, one of those naughty smiles she had. He tried to decipher it, but as the rest of her, it was impossible to know. He placed one hand on her thigh and went up her leg, looking for paradise, searching for bliss. She giggled and grabbed his moving arm, stopping him.
She licked his fingers playfully and looked at his crotch. He was ready to go again. She’d give him one last moment of joy.
He woke up in darkness. She was by his side, he could feel it. He could smell her perfume, that curious mix of flowers, recently removed dirt and a little bit of rottenness, weird as it was, but alluring and intoxicating. He tried to reach her, but there was something between them. His eyes started to get used to the darkness. He could see her silhouette, her arm stretching to the front, pointing him towards the light. He grabbed her hand. It was a skinny hand, a cold hand. He didn’t remembered it that way. It was a lifeless hand. That scared him.
She looked at him and smiled. Then she walked away, leaving him with that everlasting joy smile on his face. He was a lucky guy; not everyone gets to fuck death before dying.
She vanished from his side. The light was there, the choice was his. He walked the other way.