She's lying there, chest falling...up, down...up, down...
A peaceful sleeper, the usual silence radiates from her.
The screaming begins around midnight, I guess, and I'm on the bed, stroking her hair, hushing her until she snuggles into me, satisfied that I'm here.
I don't deserve her, someone as trusting, as gentle, as sweet does not deserve a boyfriend who puts her in danger with his very presence, a boyfriend who would abandon her, a boyfriend who knows that what he's doing isn't for the best...and yet still continues to selfishly covet her.
It's in the Bible, coveting. It's a sin. So is greed.
I yearn for her blood all the time. I have tried it, and I took it ravenously.
It is in my nature to be a sinner, a demon and yet...an angel still wants me, still cares for me, still thinks I am the most special being on earth.
She is lovely and tender and warm and never jealous. The only thing I can offer is protection, and even that seems a laughable prospect. I could crush her skull reaching out to brush her face.
I told her that once, but she didn't flinch. She never does.
Every night's the same now. I watch her, in her perfection and I note changes and differences, and my favourite of all, the things that are the same.
She has new scars, some faint, some still pink. My fists clench at the thought of her in danger, until I realise that I don't even know how she got them. Maybe she fell. Someone should have caught her, I would have.
These thought whirl around in my mind, as the clock ticks behind us, and she stirs, pulling herself into me more, and I relax. I can protect her now.
She looks different, but still has the same expressions- frowning when attention comes to her, blushing more than usual...
...and her scent. It was the same. Her smell could relax me like nothing else, her face could intrigue me more than anything else, and her voice held no end of excitement for me. It was perfect, and matched her nature-quiet, low and reserved.
The sun begins to rise, and she's already in that world between sleep and waking. She still talks in her sleep, although what he says doesn't amuse me anymore.
I promise a thousand times never to leave her again, and I find a million ways to tell her I love her. Her breathing evens out.