This piece of fantasy flash fiction was inspired by the following painting posted in the Grimdark group on Facebook. Enjoy!
She could have retreated into the light.
But he lay in the shadows, gasping. Black arrows pierced leather and rib. She imagined an icy tip against his heart.
He would not survive the night.
So she drew him into her lap and pressed her hand across his mouth. He struggled at first.
But she did not give in. She wanted his last breath to be filled with the scent of her skin. She wanted his last breath to be a struggle.
She held her hand across his lips long after he was gone, long after darkness fell.