There is nothing more beautiful than watching an innocent angel fall apart at my sinful actions. I'm going to ruin her.
"Augustine."
And she comes, looking down at me as she does so.
She glows, lighting up the goddamn room. Her feet barely touch t...
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A noise awakens me, and I'm immediately sitting up in the comfortable bed. I rubbed my eyes, hearing something to my right.
I gasped, my hand flying over my racing heart as Eros's tall figure stands by the door. He's not still, slightly leaning over to one side and then swaying. He's intoxicated, and I reach over to the lamp so I can see him.
"Eros?" I mumbled, my voice hoarse and sleepy. The warm glow from the lamp highlighted Eros's face and the redness of his eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned, and his hair was disheveled as if he had laid down on the floor. I furrowed my brows, watching as he stepped toward the bed. Was he alright?
"Eros, you okay?" I asked, pushing myself up high against the pillow.
He nodded, dark hair falling over his forehead. My lips parted as he slumped over, placing his tattooed hands on either side of my body under the blankets, then collapsing on top of me. I sucked in a breath at the feeling of his heavy body crushing my lower half, but part of me really liked him this close to me. But the gun in his waistband glinted in the light, and I was suddenly repulsed by it.
"Eros, can you..." I trailed off, watching as his eyes fluttered shut as he laid his head on my lap. I took a deep breath before reaching toward it, cringing inwardly at the coolness of it in my hand as I slipped it out of his waistband and onto the side table as far away as possible. I shut the lamp off, deciding I would just leave him there.
I probably couldn't move him off me even if I wanted to.
His scent surrounded me, his warm body protecting me from everything else in my head. I wiggled a little bit to get comfortable, then laid my head down on the pillow as Eros held on to my waist as he slept. I was happy he was actually sleeping, and not just mumbling something about how he doesn't need to.
———
My phone alarm woke me up at a reasonable hour, but I didn't seem to be moving any time soon.
Eros's head lays pressed against my chest, his arms tight around me. I pursed my lips, gently moving his hair so I could see the side of his face. The soft light from the sunrise cast a shadow onto his eyelashes, spilling over his scarred skin.
I enjoyed looking at him. It was like my own personal art museum.
He was so beautiful, so calm and peaceful in his sleep. But when he was awake, he was like a machine, strong and hard, angry at anything and everything. He ran on low amounts of energy, somehow surviving the type of work he goes through in one day.
My heart hurt for him, and when I leaned down to kiss his head, I meant every second of it.
I was sad for him, and I didn't know why. Maybe it was because of whatever goes on in his life. Whatever causes him to do these jobs where he has to end peoples' lives. Or maybe it was because I knew I could never be good for him. He wouldn't be able to spend his whole life with a girl like me, because that's just how men are. They were here for a good time, not a long time. I can already see it, the day he would finally get tired of me. I had to resort to leaving first to avoid the pain, and I eventually learned how to do it without giving my own problems away. My issues don't mix well with his, and I fear that being with him will get me hurt. Figuratively and literally.
