Dorian looked at me through the stained glass window. His gaze burned bright, vermilion.

A million candles flickered against the breeze, swaying hypnotically like tiny dancers.  

I lifted my hand and brought it to my throat. The tiny ruby on my ring caught the light of each of those candles and flickered almost as bright as Dorian's eyes.

The scent of incense wafted from the walls. I knelt as if to alters, my head bowing and my eyes closing. The skin under the tips of my fingers was warm. I felt my heart beat in my jugular. I knew Dorian felt it, too. 

Like a phantom he came and hovered by me. His hands rested on my shoulders as mine clasped together, as a pilgrim in prayer.

Above us, angels recited psalms and hymns. Below us the devil wailed.

It was Dorian and I, just him and I, lingering in purgatory. Twin souls lost between Heaven and Hell with nowhere to go since no one wanted us anymore.