A story of faith, hope and love.  ...

“Come here demon” she smiled, “I want to get to know the

being I will be with the rest of my short life.” She didn’t need him

to touch her to feel the confusion he was expressing. She cocked her

head, “take off your shirt please, and sit down.”

He did so, and sat on the edge of the bed. She sat on his lap facing

him and wrapped her legs around him. His six four frame usually

towered over her but in this position they were nearly eye to eye. She

took her fingers and gently dragged them through his light brown

hair; she felt the texture of his scalp, the softness of his curls. His

hair was wavy, and just a little curly. It was longer than fashionable,

but it suited him beautifully. He looked like someone from Apollo’s

time, and maybe he was. It was just a little damp; it must be foggy

outside, she thought.

“Women wear their hair to express themselves,” she said more

to herself than to him. “We wear it long to feel feminine, short for

convenience, and real short to express displeasure at our weaknesses.

Men usually think no such things. They will do what they think we

want, but in the end they would just rather not worry about it and

let it be natural.”

She took her index finger and stroked his brow. “You were turned

as young man, but the worry line was already formed. You were a

man that thought things through, weighed outcomes to insure success.

Your attention to detail and your strong will are etched here.”

Then she looked into his blood-red eyes. “Your eyes are the window

to your soul; they tell me everything I need to know. I see in

them right now, the sadness of some of your decisions, and your love

for me. It warms me. When you look me in the eye I feel you can see

my soul, and everything about me and you are fine with all that I am

and all that I am not.”

She traced the straight ridge of his nose with one warm finger,

“Your strongest sense I would think, this part of you that reminds

me of your other self, the instinctual animal side of your nature.”

She traced his cold lips with her finger, he never moved, he was

like stone. “You have a wonderful smile, it brightens my day, and

now it will give me hope.”

She cupped his jaw on either side, and ran her finger along his

cheek bone, just like the first time she touched him. “The coolness

always surprises me, you aren’t a cold being in my heart, and you are

warmth and light to my soul.” She felt his soft skin over his hard

bone structure, “The perfect example to what you are.” she said.

She ran her hands down his neck, and pushed his hair off the

nape of his neck, and saw the tiny pinpoint scar that was his changing.

He touched her and she felt the memory of fear, trust me, she

said, and she kissed the scar soft as a breath.