Bloodlines

Daisuke Niwa stands alone in the darkened hall. The moonlight reaches to touch him, but cannot, and so the red haired man is left encased in shadows, fingers stretched out to run along a fine wood frame.

Satoshi Hiwatari watches from the doorway to the bedroom. His glasses dangle precariously between callused fingers, the lens reflecting the moonlight that shines from the bedroom window.

Daisuke wets his lips, fingers hesitating at the bottom-right corner of the painting's frame. "Dark dies with me."

Satoshi cocks an eyebrow, raising his glasses to wipe them on the sleeve of his nightshirt. "The end to a long line of thieves. The end to a long line of artists."

Daisuke turns and meets Satoshi's gaze. He takes a step toward the bedroom, and the moonlight greedily touches his feet. Shadows dance on the walls as Daisuke tugs Satoshi's glasses away, his heart quickening as their fingers brush and eyes meet in silent understanding.

It is an end, but also a beginning.