She searched her own eyes in the mirror. Looking beyond herself, knowing that he was in there and if she could just say the words, somehow they would reverbrate. He would feel them even though he was too far away to hear her.
"I'm not finished" she said in a low and pleading whisper. "We're not done yet. Maybe we haven't even started. Are you going to be this ghost? Invading my dreams and waking me only to ask if I will forever be wanting you?"
Drawn closer, fogging the glass she closer her eyes and exhaled deeply. It was his breath that returned to warm her face. The salt of her tears at the surface now.
"Feel this. Feel me." Her hand fisted, instinctively rubbing over the hollow of her breast above the heart. His face filing up her mind's eye. Her flesh burning in sensation as though he were touching her the way she'd imagined it had always been between them.
"We're not done. We are not done." And with that she tried to let go of the pleasure she sought from the pain, in search of some joy that had mostly eluded her.