Winged-Evil

A door slammed Soft footsteps padded on the hard tile floor towards the kitchen sink. The faucet turned. Water touched. Pain stung. He bit back the words taught outside the home Glancing around Knowing the other would not hear Letting a few slip past It soaked in, the silence Numbed, he stood Walking towards the one room occupied by the other. Hearing her breath. Fast, uneven Was it her? Was it him. Stepping inside Light burning Caught The soft sigh examining the wounds. Silence Nothing No words No sounds Eyes say everything Everything she wont The floor creaked. Light faded. Blankets stirred. A door slamm