Tammie aka T.w. Richards has not received any gifts yet
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.