It was all an accident to begin with. I know what they say about
bondings happening in that first moment when you lay eyes on that one
person that you will live and breathe and die for. I suppose that even a
man who has deserted God has to believe in something; a bond so deep that
God himself is afraid to interfere with it. I don't know why God chose me
to be her protector. Maybe He has a sense of humor.
That first day, we passed in the corridor. I raised my eyes at the sound of her step and saw her approaching, a vision of light and dark, purity and evil. Her hair caught my attention immediately, but then again, you don't see many blondes in Japan. It shone in the dim light. Fire gleamed in her green eyes and in the amulet she wore around her neck. Her movements were graceful and her black gown flowed like the shadows of the queen of night. I could feel the darkness and turmoil of her thoughts, and yet she was so soft, so vulnerable. An aura of holiness surrounded her, and she had the serenity of one who knows God; Saint Francis maybe, or Joan, perhaps.
I loved her immediately, foolish as it may seem.
Our eyes locked...she passed me. A cloud of madness and silence enveloped her, so palpable I could taste it. Heat from a powerful forge surrounded me and I immediately feared that I may have to hunt this angel someday. I could have held her fire, her craft was so evident and powerful.
We watched one another until she turned a corner. I knew then that my soul had found its fate.
Yet how does one love an angel?
I was alone. I was used to not being needed, but one does start to feel desolate when one is turned away, has nowhere to go, and knows no one. I longed for a chapel. Somehow, I don't think God has time to listen to each individual prayer, but it helps to combat the thought that no one in the world cares whether you live or die.
I once told a girl that I was more in the habit of believing in God. I still don't know whether or not I do. I felt betrayed by the fact that such a lover of beauty could be such a destructive, homicidal witch. This was several days after I arrived in Tokyo.
I looked up as I heard footsteps right in front of me. My only impression was of darkness; dark hair, dark clothes, dark eyes. He was so pale, and his darkness seemed to make him a demon of the night or a vampire. His eyes held me. I was helpless under his gaze. He was so strong, so gruff, so sure of himself. He threw off an aura to rebuff anyone who came near.
We passed. His expression flickered for an instant. I couldn't read him. He was so elegant. I felt through his projection and in an instant I knew he was vulnerable, gentle...and forced to hide it to survive. Cool winds followed him and wrapped around me, calming my fears. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and let him protect me.
I loved him.
Our eyes remained bound until I rounded a corner. I stopped and leaned against the wall, weak in my emotions.
I would never be alone again.
That first day, we passed in the corridor. I raised my eyes at the sound of her step and saw her approaching, a vision of light and dark, purity and evil. Her hair caught my attention immediately, but then again, you don't see many blondes in Japan. It shone in the dim light. Fire gleamed in her green eyes and in the amulet she wore around her neck. Her movements were graceful and her black gown flowed like the shadows of the queen of night. I could feel the darkness and turmoil of her thoughts, and yet she was so soft, so vulnerable. An aura of holiness surrounded her, and she had the serenity of one who knows God; Saint Francis maybe, or Joan, perhaps.
I loved her immediately, foolish as it may seem.
Our eyes locked...she passed me. A cloud of madness and silence enveloped her, so palpable I could taste it. Heat from a powerful forge surrounded me and I immediately feared that I may have to hunt this angel someday. I could have held her fire, her craft was so evident and powerful.
We watched one another until she turned a corner. I knew then that my soul had found its fate.
Yet how does one love an angel?
I was alone. I was used to not being needed, but one does start to feel desolate when one is turned away, has nowhere to go, and knows no one. I longed for a chapel. Somehow, I don't think God has time to listen to each individual prayer, but it helps to combat the thought that no one in the world cares whether you live or die.
I once told a girl that I was more in the habit of believing in God. I still don't know whether or not I do. I felt betrayed by the fact that such a lover of beauty could be such a destructive, homicidal witch. This was several days after I arrived in Tokyo.
I looked up as I heard footsteps right in front of me. My only impression was of darkness; dark hair, dark clothes, dark eyes. He was so pale, and his darkness seemed to make him a demon of the night or a vampire. His eyes held me. I was helpless under his gaze. He was so strong, so gruff, so sure of himself. He threw off an aura to rebuff anyone who came near.
We passed. His expression flickered for an instant. I couldn't read him. He was so elegant. I felt through his projection and in an instant I knew he was vulnerable, gentle...and forced to hide it to survive. Cool winds followed him and wrapped around me, calming my fears. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and let him protect me.
I loved him.
Our eyes remained bound until I rounded a corner. I stopped and leaned against the wall, weak in my emotions.
I would never be alone again.