Solitude

Making his destination, he swept into the room easily, not a soul alive at the dreadfully early hour.

Returning to sit where he had prior to his bathing, he found in the minutes passing that he still yearned for the female deeply. Eyeing the jade comb resting inanimately on the table before him, his thoughts wondered into the memories of when Kagome would sit him down after a bath and gently brush his hair. Fingers looping through, combing every bit with care and affection, her features soft and content to charitably work in silence.

Coming out of the peaceable reverie, his mind registered that he had begun stringing the comb through his nearly dried tresses, unconsciously wishing to imitate the sweet atmosphere she brought with her existence.

Frustration marring his features, he ceased running the comb in the silver cascade and instead unfolded to stand. His powerful silhouette appeared on the ground while he lithely moved to the futon, grand and snugly covered in thick linen and a few of what Kagome called “pillows” at its head. Exhaling a lonesome sigh, he resigned himself to well needed sleep.  A finely tipped ear lied upon the cotton filled bundle; narrow molten orbs slid shut while the youkai lord of the west permitted the heaviness of slumber and solitude to rest within his limbs.

Perhaps she would return in the morning? Perhaps.

 

--End