Drifting lovers type thing

The two lovers stared into each other’s eyes, endlessly. They took no notice of the clouds, endless shapes of wonder, that past behind the others head. Nor did they pay any attention to the tangled lonely black that lay below them. One hand held the others, tightly, gently, close, the fingers forming knots no one else knew or had every known. The other held the rope of the pulleys that held them aloft; they cared nothing for the responsibility of that hand, holding the other up was no chore. They were together after all.

            Until one saw something in the darkness far below their feet, it was shiny and the smell of it wafted up. It smelt wonderful. The allure of the object was too much to bear and with a promise that there was nothing to worry about the rope of the enthralled lover passed through the hand that held them fixed. The one descended towards the black, “just a look” they promised again.

“Just a look”.

            Of course as one descended the other rose, up and up they went. Panic set in but they waited, patiently, they trusted the other to bring them down after all. But up and up they went all the same and as the air thinned it became harder and harder to breathe. The panic now outweighed the trust and they began to pull at the rope, as hard as they could, until both stopped. 

            The descending lover stopped close to the object, close enough to touch, but not to pull it to them. This was frustrating, a final look up at the once so close lover almost too far away to see, and the rope was cut.

            The other fell far, much further than the other, and hitting the floor hurt. So whilst one reveled in their success in gaining the object that dragged them away, the other just lay in the black loneliness, once too far away to care for, Bruised, broken and betrayed. 

Author's Note

Tear it apart if you like.