Disclaimer: Not mine! Don't sue!
Davis P.O.V., set during the time he and Chloe were "on the run".
He had always thought that she was beautiful when she cried. His broken angel. Fragile and lost , trapped in a world a million miles from where she belonged, safe within heavens gates.
Each and every touch of her skin calmed the demon that resided in his soul. The scent of her hair quelled his blood-lust. The colour of her eyes could mesmerise him so deeply, that the evil inside him ceased to exist.
He wanted to keep her forever, just so that he could memorise every inch of her; so that her voice and touch and scent were ingrained so deeply in his mind that no one would ever be able to take them from him.
She was all he needed, but he knew she needed more.
In the beginning, she would never allow him to see anything more than the sparkle of unshed tears in the corners of her emerald eyes. But now, more and more often he would find her lost in thought, with silent tears staining her creamy skin.
In those moments, and only in those moments, would she allow him to take her in his arms. Burying herself against his chest, until the tears ran dry and sleep took hold. He wished he did not take such joy from her moments of distress, but to hold her so close, to feel her breath and to hear her heart beat. In those moments, he felt more human than ever before.
But it was in those moments of cradling his perfect bright-eyed cherub, that he knew this existence would not last. Just as she saved his soul, he was destroying hers.
She was becoming a shadow of the angel she had been when they had first met. Each and every moment with him tore at her pristine wings and tarnished her halo. Her light that had shone so brightly, was now no more that a flickering flame, fighting to remain amidst the darkness that he radiated.
Every night he would watch as she slept, keeping guard over his precious treasure, praying again and again the decades of the rosary, hoping against hope that some greater being would hear his plea.
He no longer prayed for himself, he soul was already too black with sin, for salvation to be granted. Instead he prayed for her, that her light would be renewed. Surely, he reasoned, no God would not abandon his most perfect creation, no God would deny the salvation of angel.
Despite his prayers, he knew her fate lay in his hands. She would stay as long as he needed her to. Until she could no longer quench the beast in him. He never allowed himself to think of that day. The day when the darkness would ultimately consume him and he would lose her.
He should have set her free; returned her wings and released her. It would be the only way to protect her from the terror that a future with him would hold. He knew it was the right thing to do.
But, then he would see she her cry and he would hold her again. Soft and warm against his skin. He would kiss her forehead and promise it would be better. And she would look at him, eyes wide and glittering and force a weak smile. She would apologise for the tears and fall asleep in his arms.
And the cycle would repeat, and he would hate himself because he knew she was all he had. His perfect, beautiful, broken angel.
And he could never set her free.
Questions? Comments? Kisses?
xoxo