She has golden blonde hair with subtle purple streaks hidden underneath. He noticed them for the first time when she had her hair up. Her eyes are cerulean and beautiful without makeup. He fell in love with her eyes first, and then bit by bit, every other little part of her. The dimples on her back. Her hipbones. Her jawline. The freckle on her shoulder. She is perfect.

He is nothing extraordinary, he is nothing but typical. Nothing sets him apart from the rest of the men that have fallen in love with her, and he casually takes a number and stands in line, waiting for his turn. Waiting for the chance to have his heart broken by her.

When she flashes him a beautiful smile, he goes weak in the knees and his vision starts to blur. He has never been a religious man but she has him convinced that she is an angel.

She beckons to him with a sly flick of her finger and a coy whisper. Come here she speaks to him and he has no choice but to listen to her commands. He is so ready for this moment. He has waited all of his life.

She strips him down naked and vulnerable, and he is at ease and transcended into a higher moment, a brand new world that the two of them are creating. Her kisses taste like heroin, he cannot help himself. As he struggles for self-control, he is losing the fight.

He mounts her as though it is the most natural thing in the world to do. Staring down at her naked beauty, he feels a surge of pleasure and a rush of love flow through his veins, and within mere moments he finds himself in the sweet ecstasy of release. He is spent and as he lays on top of her breathless, she strokes his hair sweetly and breathes quietly into his ear.

When can I see you next?

I don't do that. It will be best for you if you never see me again.

He has known this from the beginning, that it would never be more than what it has just been, and as he stares at the dimples on her shirtless back walking out of the hotel room door, he falls apart on the bed and lets himself taste the tears for the first time in years.


He doesn't believe in angels. He doesn't believe in demons, but he knows there is a fickle monster that has laid eggs inside his heart, and now they burrow and hatch on a daily basis, reminding him of what once was.

She is not a monstrosity. The monster that dwells deep within his skin and has buried itself deep within his heart answers to only one first name.