2 lil' writing prompt

yellow kiss

Heaven is regarded in various religions as the abode of God and the angels and of the good after death, often traditionally depicted as above the sky.

"Those who practiced good deeds would receive the reward of a place in heaven."

That was the typical murmur. It is accurate that humans deem their final life based on where they will arrive, but these are not rewarded. You become a protector, a caretaker of those in need.

That was all. They existed to be the pillows, to win with elegance as they pierced the essences that tried to convert those to the Netherlands. All they could do was embrace the duty of becoming someone’s Guardian.

That's where I find myself today. Suppose you could even embrace this moment as a day. It was all white, so white that my vision was attempting to whirl some color, some pigment, into a deceitful static that stung my pupils. I could sense my back was plowed onto the ground, with no lumps, no rug, nothing to cause me discomfort. It was strange, my mind was murky, and I could scarcely recollect my memory. What was I last doing? Where did I last lay? 

My questions abruptly stopped when I felt frost hands run through the strands of hair on the flanks of my head, the feeling nippy yet entirely delightful. I wasn't sure if I should pull away from the sensation, my head lightly squirming off as my eyelids faltered like my entire body was settling into these hands that attempted to claim me. My head was lifting on this individual's lap, and a faint voice tried to speak to me. 

"Alice, come to me." The voice was from a woman, her tune sweet and comforting like a velvet slice of cake. Yet her hands and lap were enlightening to my flesh; it was frigid. "Don't be afraid." 

My head nuzzles into her lap; my vision concentrates on the lady's figure as her face approaches mine. Even her breath was like ice. Her skin was stunning, captivating designs curling along the middle of her eyebrows, and her eyes frosted in a glimmering yellow. Her hair was a delicate white, coating her like an irresistible lion. If I were to murmur honestly, I desired to kiss this lion, allow her lips to savor mine. 

Suddenly, the lion appeared grim, her eyes pulling away from mine. Something warm was radiating at my ankles, another pair of hands wrapping along my flesh as I felt my eyesight flicker. No matter where I looked, it was white, but now, the darkness was attempting to take me. The longer I felt this dark presence hold onto my ankles. The burn would sizzle further and further into my skin, my vision melting when my eyesight failed to focus. "Alice, Alice." Two voices, one calling to me like I was a long-lost craving, the other reaching to me like I was being lured into a spiral. Was it selfish that I wished for the lust, not the pain? I attempted to focus on the lady my head lay in, my hand lifting from my side and reaching her like a child yearning for its mother. My motions barely felt like my own. I just despised this warmth. I couldn't stand it for another second, my voice hitching in my throat when I prayed: "Take me."  

It wasn't long before I could gleam at the lion's presence again. She nods at me, her lips pulling into a gentle smile as she lowers her head toward mine. That velvet trickled into honey, the chilly kiss pampering my lips and allowing me to kick away the heat and feel senseless. One name flooded my brain. Emelia. Emelia. A yellow kiss, something I desired from this name, but I couldn't imagine a memory—only a soft, golden figure. My heart contorted for her. 

The lion tugs away from me, her eyes replenishing in regret as she drifts away, my breaths panting away like they held up a mind of their own. The flesh on my neck tightens, constricting my airways as I choke, my eyelids springing back when I flinch, clutching my neck frantically. At first, my intellect convinced me I had never felt such grand pain, but something was telling me this was relatively familiar. My chokes become blusters of struggle as if a rope was strangling me, the texture burning my skin when it pulls taut. I could not hold my battle for much longer. I allowed myself to linger in that static until it drifted into darkness.