Untitled Drabble

Not mine


Spock raised his hand and delicately placed it on his human's face.
Traces of emotion lingered, and he let them echo. Memories arced,
and he caressed each of them before going deeper. Darkness crept
over the beautiful mind beneath his hand, and he held it at bay. He
remembered to take a breath, and it matched the sweet breath of his
beloved. Time itself seemed to falter, and he edged his way further
inside to tenderly hold what remained. An image appeared briefly, a
light and a wide smile that said so much.

"Goodbye," McCoy whispered. Spock bowed his head.