Woe Betide The Lovers.

There was a silence, all too familiar, that neither of the lovers could pin as a sign of distance or contemplation. They sat across from each other in a white room, littered with black balloons slowly losing air over time. They sat at a black glass table, with lips that didn't bother to part. In between them, laying on the table, a white cake in the shape of a heart that the woman, wearing white, made for the man, donned in a black suit and tie. A chocolate cake with white frosting framing it in an ornate fashion as if it were a porcelain antique itself. Also in front of them were two metallic guns with the barrels pressed in between each other's eyes. They sat there cautious with unease despite their cold demeanor on the outside.

Amidst the echoes of their silence, they continued to remain like stone in front of each other, guns fixed on one another. A test of trust playing out in front of them as if it were a fantasy they'd normally witness in an old western on television. Except there were no cameras to smile for, there were no actors to perform a role. Instead, the threat of either of them giving in and pulling the trigger lingered around them; As if there were a curse plaguing the love they still shared. A still, but tragic, reality between them both.

Earlier in the night, music filled the air. The two feasted shamelessly on a delicious meal. The lovers laughed with each other, sharing the stories of their lives. They danced in unison, alone in the room. Neither missed a step in the rhythm of the songs on the radio. Effortless and in sync. Together in a world of their own. A tale as old as time itself. However, almost ominous and undetected, the music slowly faded and their bodies slowly drifted apart. The space between them became a divide and an unwelcome warning of what was in store.

Inside of them both, the voice of their inner saboteurs called to them faintly. Both of their hidden shadows steering the lovers to the table to sit, face each other, and draw their weapons. They followed their whispered demands. A game of balance carefully crafted by their own individual chasms. They pulled out their chairs across the table. Both sat down without a fight, between themselves and their demons.

And so, the lovers were silenced by their own personal turmoil. They picked up their guns, looked into each other's haunted eyes, and poised the weapons at each other's head. In their standoff, the inner saboteurs continued to spin around them. Eventually seeping through their ears and into their vulnerable minds.

They urged the couple in the waiting game, reminding them both of wounds of the past they failed to confront before their union. Singing to them their deepest fears that they locked away in the darkest parts of themselves. The saboteurs gnawed at the flesh of the lover's brains. They clawed from the inside of their skulls with screams of doom that only they could hear, coaxing them both to break.

A sudden bang rang through the white room. The saboteurs of the lovers were no longer present. The cake, still intact but with bloodshed splattered over it. The man sat with his suit sprinkled with the blood of the woman he loved on it. The bullet that blasted right into her head fell to the floor, along with the blood spilling out of her skull. The man lowered his head, saddened by his regret with the brash decision he made.

She sat with her lips still warm of life. Her mouth on her crimsoned face pulled into a smile. Her eyes began to blink. With her heart still beating in her chest, she soon realized that blood spilled does not equate to death. She laughed hysterically. The man across from her rose his head, shocked and confused by this. He immediately got up from his chair and grabbed onto her, relieved to feel the warmth of her body. She held onto him, returning the affection of his embrace. She accepted the woe of his quiet penance. The woman held the side of his face softly to guide his eyes to hers. Delicately, she spoke the words breaking their silence once again, "Go ahead. Eat the cake."

He nodded, agreeing to her simple request. The radio slowly climbed in volume, returning to the room in white. She watched him affectionately eat the cake she made for him. Despite it all, she was full with love.