She stopped. A hook in the darkness pulled her back. Trembling a little, she retraced her path to a safe escape that lay dead now.
The eyes met blankness, not a muscle twitched on his watchful face. Was she doing what he wanted her to do?
The cologne again. She clenched her fist to allow the unsteadiness pass. Gradually, it became her friend.
She knew not when her finger tips touched his brow. His eyes spoke nothing. They were still like glass; hers, fluid like a stream.
Phwatt! It sounded like a burst balloon, it felt like a knife. The pain fogged her mind for moments she couldn't count. She felt the redness on her right cheek become eminent, the traces of his fingers leaving their indelible imprints on her mind.
As the blur cleared, she saw his back disappear into the inky blackness, the silence shaken only by his reverberating footsteps, walking away.
Tears never came.