Taking in the view, a few steps away.
Always watching, but never engaging.
She watches him, watching her, longing for his touch; even though she knows it would mean nothing.
He doesn’t truly want her, she is but a novelty, something to be taken out, paraded around for display purposes only.
His touch is cold regardless of the warmth of his hands.
She isn’t good enough for him, she knows this.
He is a God, a titan of sorts.
She stares longingly and wishes he would just end it already, cut the cord, sever the non-existent grasp he holds on her.
But she cares for him to much to say anything.
She doesn’t have the power to do it herself.
For he is her god, her titan.