Time and space recede and blast away like a universe expanding forever outward, and leaving only darkness and the two of us on its periphery, darkness and breathing and touch.

It occurs to me that for a long time she has been doing her own version of resisting.

But that's the problem with love - it acts on you, works through you, resists your attempts to control.

The Story of Solomon is the only way I know how to explain. And then, in smaller letters: Forgive me.

"Everyone is asleep. They've all been asleep for years. You seemed... awake." Alex is whispering now. He closes his eyes, opens them again. "I'm tired of sleeping."

I love you. They can't take it away.

I need him to know that I came for him. I need him to know that somehow, at some point in the tunnels, I began to love him.