Perfection

He was perfect. He was just like I'd remembered him, down to the very touch.

Of course, his eyes had grown sunken – he was very tired; it was only natural. Those eyes used to burn green like the sun scorching a tall plain. It was natural and vivid and bright. The color was still there, but just a little diminished. Only a little, though. He was still wonderful.

His hair, once golden blonde, had taken a paler, thinner shade. I remember the scent of that hair, the feeling of my fingers running through it when he kissed me. Soft hair and soft lifts made me float while the hardness of his form, of his strength brought me down to earth again again. When he held my hips, I held his hair, and we were balanced. Paired. We were two men and one energy. We were whole. I could almost feel it again with just a look.

Those lips were a little dry, cracked in a place or two, but the injections were holding nicely and his teeth were still so perfect white. He'd seen a dentist, David. David was always smiling, too, but not the way my lover smiled. David smiled like a liar, like a thief. Like a monster in his closet. David stole from me, from us...but he did such lovely work, we'd both have to admit.

His shoulders, his arms, his chest were almost flawless. The little punctures had been carefully, so carefully sewn, with such loving attention to dismiss the carelessness of a moment's passion. David couldn't have done that – David wasn't a doctor, he was a fucking dentist. He didn't have hands like mine, or a heart like mine. He didn't love him or trust himself like we had. So why- ...it didn't matter. David wasn't holding him tonight. I was. We were together again. Perfect. Flawless.

Just like I'd remembered him...only this time, he promised to be better than he'd ever been.

A slight flutter in his heart resounded in mine. Or was it just my heart beating twice as fast?

Does it matter?