his hands quivered in the dark, looking for something. what it was did not matter to them, they were cold and tired. aching from the light time. yet for richard, the search was much more than an unfortunate break from rest. he needed her voice, and his hands were the only method he had left to find it. she was no longer with him in the darkness, when the soft sounds of his bed would harmonize with their dual movement. his left hand landed on cool plastic. 

would she answer? of course.
would she listen? he did not know.  

his fingers dialed her number from memory. the contours of the keys substituted for the angular curves of her cheek. 

-hello? a soft voice meant she had been awake. the darkness was with her as well. 
-i love you. 

he paused after he spoke, straining his ears for a hint to her reaction. for the smallest grain of salt to season his imagination. for a whisper from the past to breathe itself out through her pink lungs and into everything he knew and kill and kill and kill her fear. 

then he hung up the phone, his hands scuttled back underneath the sheets, violently digging themselves into each other. 

he couldn't feel how his words entered her body from this distance. the time since last holding her to him had deadened his souls sensitivity. he couldn't see the blue halo surround her as she smiled. it had been three years since last talking to her. three words for three years spent alone, conjuring thoughts of her ghost onto the lonely left side of the bed. he waited for the morning in a thick silence.