The day was always going to come when Adam Eden decided to stop fighting. It was always going to happen, whether he knew or accepted it. Adam Eden, beautiful and strong though he is, would one day exhaust himself. When he lost track of why, who or what he was fighting, Adam Eden would simply give up.

The day when Adam Eden, battle worn and tired, finally surrendered was always going to come. And it was going to be a horrible day.

---

Los Angeles was already shimmering in the morning heat when Adam Eden woke up. Like everything in his life, it was a slow and graceful process. His slender limbs unfurled under the silk sheets, his skin pale and soft like flower petals. Sunlight slipped through the window, dancing across his porcelain chest and caressing his gently pink nipples.

A smile across his delicious, full mouth, hint of perfect teeth. Long dark lashes fluttered over his striking face, painting velvet shadows across his delicate, high cheekbones.

In a rush of colour, the world greeted Adam Eden’s eyes and fell instantly in love. The shifting shades of blue and green and violet were enchanting and emotive, provocative and pained. Poets could try for generations to capture the vivid colours of his eyes in their nets of metaphor and never succeed.

Adam Eden sat up and closed his eyes again, letting the sunlight run its worshipping fingers through his wild chestnut tresses, stroking the sleeping gold highlights into glorious life. He kept his eyes closed, indulging in a silent and chaste prayer: Thank You for this morning. Thank You for giving me my lover, my daughter, my life. Thank You for the strength in my body and soul.

He got out of bed and let the sun embrace his naked body. His feet danced across the floor to the bathroom, where he washed his glittering skin under the singing water of his shower.

He dried and dressed, brushed his hair. Adam Eden was such a ravishing beauty that he did not need anything to heighten his appearance. His hair was allowed to fall freely about his shoulders and face in soft waves. His clothes clung to his precision cut hips and small waist.

A simple outfit as most of his were these days: tight black jeans and a loose mesh shirt which hung dangerously from his left shoulder, exposing skin so lovely it begged to be touched.

Michael Adams-Harris Eden, to give him his full title, was in the kitchen with his daughter, the blond haired, blue eyed cherub of both his and Adam’s hearts, their child Gabrielle. What a sight they were together! Michael with his night sky hair and dazzling eyes, with his easy and charming smile. Gabrielle looked like a little angel, and she was, innocent but never stupid.

“Morning lover,” Michael smiled, relishing the word on his tongue. Michael considered calling Adam his lover was one of the highest honours ever placed upon him.

Adam smiled in reply; placing a loving kiss on Michael’s still smiling lips. A beautiful hand, carved from the finest marble, slipped around Adam’s waist to rest in the small of his back, pulling him closer. Adam obliged, his hips fitting snug against Michael’s own in a physical testament to how much they belonged together.

A wolf whistle and childish giggle pulled them from their kiss. Lottie, their closest friend and live in nanny was in the doorway to the kitchen, sticking her tongue out at them.

“Now now boys, we’ve not even had breakfast yet!” She reminded them, strolling into the kitchen and scooping a giggling Gabrielle into her capable arms. “What do you boys want?”

Both Michael and Adam raised an eyebrow in a silently sarcastic reply. Lottie laughed again, sounding as much the child as Gabby. Adam placed a kiss to Michael’s forehead before starting to make breakfast.

With so much beauty everywhere, it’s hard to believe that the life of this little family could become so ugly. Twisted with insecurity, bitterness and apathy, everything they had worked for was about to fall apart in the most dramatic way.