I still remember when he freed me. I owe him my life, and I would gladly give it to him...if he would take it. I would give him anything, but the only thing he will take is my body.
Throughout my life, my body has been the only thing of value in my possession. Even now, as a celestial warrior, powerful, gifted, feared, respected... those whose opinion I care for value me for my body and what I can do with it - though admittedly that has changed since we first met...
No matter how much armour I wear on my body, my heart is still forever unportected, the one chink in my strong facade. It is most vulnerable to those who I love, which is why the barbs he throws hurt so deeply. He doesn't realise he hurts me when he uses me so cheaply, but I give without asking for anything in return. The brief moments of his attention, those precious fragments of what I dream could be are the only things to sustain me from day to day, the fuel of my life.
The price of existence without him would be too high to pay, that's why I can never give up on him.
So as I loosen the straps on my armour to spend tonight in his arms one more time, I try to tighten the protection round my heart, but in my soul I know I do it in vain.
They say love hurts, and it's true there's no protection that can spare me, but it's a price I'm willling to pay to be surrounded in his arms, to be enveloped in his scent, to have the power, for just a brief moment, to draw moans from his lips, to make him feel. I penetrate his armour for that brief time in his arms, though he doesn't realise I do it. I know more about him than he could ever guess, though I would never say, I will not put him at risk.
I walk to his tent and resign myself to the agony of touching what can never be mine.
Sometimes a glimpse of perfection makes the darkness in your soul worthwhile.