I can feel her in my arms—a mirage, but a welcome one, nonetheless. My hands move up her body, tracing the curve of her waist before settling on her ribcage. She's naked, her bare skin on top of mine.
Her breath on my cheek, I inhale the freshness of her scent, the nearness that at one point had proved impossible.
"I love you, too," I murmur in her hair, slowly thrusting in and out of her—making love to her body and her soul. "Luz. Mi luz," my voice becomes frantic as I feel her walls close around me, milking me until I find my release inside of her.
Her voice—that sweet, sweet voice I'd fallen in love with—sings in my ear as she reaches her own climax, her soft moan caressing my very being, marking me as forever hers.
I hold tightly on to her—to the illusion of her. But it doesn't last.
It never does.
The more I grasp at her form, the more she dissipates until she becomes nothing more than a phantasm haunting my mind.
"No, no, no," I keep chanting, my voice harsh and seemingly far away. But the more I struggle, the more I scream to the top of my lungs, the more I realize that I'm losing it—I'm losing her.