Tainted

He pushed her to the darkest corner. Not the shaky lights or the beating music got to their senses; they were alone in a place where no body was ever lonely. His presences made her hazy; she followed his eyes to where ever they looked, moving to the rhythm of sound, never loosing the connection to which she was now lost.
The night went by like hours do, and finally she took him by his words. His right hand fell on her waist, soft and firm. He pinned her against the wall and began. She let go. His left hand took the time to move out of its hidden place, tracing paths over the soft union of soul and mind. He caressed, and slowly pushed until he had created a mark of colour life and she, nervous, pulled away.
He stopped her and with strength threw her to the once gentle wall, took her by the wrists and looked deep in to her eyes. She screamed. Her hearth beat landed in her changing fist; once white, now blue, going from being a live to being death. Never had golden scared her so much.
It wasn’t like anything she knew; it was rich and a live, it moved inside a sphere of light but still there was a dark feeling to it. She wanted to run, to cry, yet nothing came from her; not a sound not a wince. His hands left hers but still she couldn’t move, his nails started to ascend to her neck, going over her arms, her waist, her skin. He kissed every part of the way, as if he cared. Her thoughts rambled on and on; what would he do? And why? Why her?
He hadn’t spoken a word so at the moment he did it seemed like a part of a broken song. It will last forever he said to her ear. Her blood was running, pumping, her senses open to the slightest emotion. The adrenaline building her up. And she felt it; his cold breath in her skin, his wet lips on her neck, his sharp teeth inside her.
The sacred liquid in her veins exploded spilling on her white- pink blouse, the one she had just borrowed, the one she wouldn’t want to spend eternity in. And she could feel everything; the days of her past, and his past, and some kind of collective. She had every single memory inside her. She could see them running in her mind, hiding one from the other, mixing births and deaths and games and lies. Her body stopped making an effort and concentrated on letting go with grace. She fell in his arms that were now strong and big. He was living again. For a moment he was awake again.
He held her until she was gone, waiting for her to wake up again, to open her eyes and jump out of the floor to go dancing. He grabbed a clean handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned the red dripping from his mouth.
He saw her as she walked away in to the whole, as pale as possible, as fragile as bones, with the power of a new born. Only he saw this, to the rest she was as beautiful and full of life as never before, she was now, to the rest, the strongest walker in the room.