No matter how hard I fight or how much I resist the temptation of sin I always, always end up here. He doesn't make it easy for me, even the smallest of things that would seem ordinary endear me to him- a natural naïve persuasiveness that I cannot resist.

Why does he do this to me?

His scent is calming, soothing, and peaceful as it lulls me into a deep slumber. It consumes me, he consumes me. It's not just him that possesses that deep, rich and all-consuming aroma. It oozes out of his apartment blessing everything that he touches with it. Every time I enter it wafts into my lungs and reignites sensations that I thought, hoped, would never be awakened. He evokes a reaction out of me like no one else… and it terrifies me.

I have tried so hard to push him away.

His touch scatters and expands warm needle-like sensations across the plains and valleys of my deathly skin bringing life and so much more. He always handles me with an angelic caress, fliting over my arms, legs, neck, hands- He is tough and strong, a fighter just like me, but he cares so freely and completely, which isn't like me. I have said, screamed, shouted so many hateful and sinful obscenities at him, and yet he still handles me as a Goddess.

I know what this is… what we have, I just always believed, hoped, that it would never happen it me.

His hair is an intricate network of branches, intertwined with each other; it always is at this hour. His face a mask –no not a mask- an image of tranquillity, contentment and… that. His chest is adorned with lines dancing and gliding over his body, a badge of valour for all his deeds. It rhythmically and controlled, inflates and deflates succeeded swiftly by the rush of air flowing out of his broken nose.

I gingerly plant my hand on his worn armour, my eyes wandering back to that image etched across his face. I don't understand. How could he look, feel like that after… everything. After all of my sins against the world I never understood how I could earn the privilege of being in the presence of such a fallen angel.

I brought my hand up to the side of his face and let it gently trail along his slack jaw. Though it I felt the roughness of his face at this ungodly hour. I gave him one last, longing… loving look before I cautiously and soundlessly padded over to the other side of the room to slip my trousers on then my shirt. I moved over to the door with my hand upon the door handle, ready to leave but I paused. I considered taking another glance at him, however I knew that if I did that, I would never be able to leave. He had too much power over me.

I had to leave now before-

"Stay, please."