The scar stretched below his left nipple. It was pink tissue in a single straight horizontal line. Ryder stared at the mirror, the razor humming in his frozen hand. His mind searched for the time in his life when he acquired the injury, and why had it never grabbed his attention before. He flicked the buzzing razor in his hand off and set it on the counter. Slowly he lifted his finger to his chest. He touched it carefully, a fingertip tracing the path it took across his chest. His mind raced from one blank moment to the next searching for the defining moment of that scar. An image flashed through his mind. A woman, distressed, crying, but oh how beautiful she was. His fingers continued to trace, another image, a man, a sword. Something brushed his flesh, chills covered his body. He looked into the mirror. His night was filled with dreams; the images he thought must be tied to them in some way. He shook his head, dismissing the dreams and explaining the scar as an accident he could no longer remember. He turned to leave the bathroom, the mirror the only witness to the equal sized scar on his back.
The day was spent setting out tables, the buffet of foods he had prepared. The elegant room began taking shape for the evening to come.

Undetected she watched from the stairs. Her heart sinking each time he paused, unconsciously rubbing the spot on his chest. Long ago he had protected her, with a cost of his life. The love they had shared was exposed, others had searched them out. They had brought him with them. The man she was fasted to. Forsaken, he was brutal and his actions harsh. If he was not worthy of her love, then she would have the love of no man. She held her love, his body naked with hers, gasping for breath, the sword running through his flesh. She held him when his flesh grew cold, and her life was spent holding that coldness in her heart.

Ryder pounded quickly up the stairs. He passed inches from her and had no idea she was there. He turned in to the bedroom, and began laying his costume across the bed. Guests would be arriving shortly, the time had come. His preparations the lighting, the feast they would have, all of it was ready.

The evening was elegant. He passed though the now crowded room, laughing and conversing with is guests. Friends old and new gathered in costume, conversations and introductions chattered about the air. Very few noticed her, her elegant foot fall carrying her down the stairs. She walked among them, returning smiles and nods from others. She wound her way though his guests. Someone nearby took pictures, the candles giving way to the flash bouncing brilliant white against the walls.

When he took her hand in his, he kissed it gently. His eyes turning to hers, he smiled. He had barely noticed the twinge in his chest as he done so. The touch of her eyes was electrifying. It raced through him and settled low in the pit of his gut. Her striking beauty held him captive. The world around him froze as he realized the image this morning was her. His eyes became hazy and his breath was labored. Politely he excused himself and made his way to the stairs. His hand rose to his chest as he climbed above the gathering of friends below. She followed moments later.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the layers of his costume unbuttoned. The scar on his chest burning under his finger tips. She approached him as he sat on the bed.

"Let me help with that" she sat beside him.

"I don't know what it is from" Ryder's voice shook as he spoke.

Her open hand moved to his chest. She pressed the warmth of it against him. She told him of the time she had waited, to feel once again the warmth of his flesh. She told him of the love they had shared, so very long ago. He watched her as she spoke. He learned of a past long ago forgotten. A past that was somehow coupled to him. As she told her tale the pain in his chest faded. She told him that her presence, brought with it the past, and that her desire to hold him yet again would be his demise.

His world spun. Nothing she said made sense, but everything at once was clear. He leaned close to kiss her. Their lips began hungrily tasting each others. Passion, flesh and desire collided between them. Their fingers rushed to expose skin. Breath was rapid, torrent. His lips wandered her flesh tasting her, savoring the feel of it against his lips.
He hips arched into him giving into his exploring mouth. Her breath heated and rushed.
She pulled him over her, his weight upon her. Her eyes closed as he entered her. Their hips began rocking in unison. Their pace grew faster, her fingernails dug at his back, as he held her hair in his hands. Lust took them over the edge. Leaving them spent in each others arms. Her fingers traced the square of his jaw, and a small trail of blood was left.

"It is time" she hurried to dress. His questions went unheeded. She turned to him, her hand resting on his cheek. "If I stay, I bring the same fate we have suffered before." She turned and stepped into the hall. Quickly Ryder followed. At the top of the stairs he stopped. The empty room stretched below him. He sat at the top of the stairs, his thoughtss swirled.

"A dream." He thought. All crazy dream.
He rested his head between his hands, and noticed a picture on the step. He looked at her, there in the picture, as he kissed her hand.