Cinnamon, Blueberries, & Other Subjects to fill a Book of Poetry

Reese

After that time we got caught in the rain, I started to pay more attention to him. I'd stopped trying to pay attention to other people, but he was special. 

Ugh. That thought makes me want to gag, but it's.. true, I guess. Samael Greene is special. I mean, I usually play a little harder to get. What can I say? Maybe I have a thing for gingers. Still, no matter how 'special' he is, I'm never going to call him a stupid nickname like he does me. 'Angel' he called me. I mean, one night together and he's already got a pet name? It made me shudder.. not necessarily in a bad way. Though it kind of makes me wonder how long he's wanted to do this. God knows how long /I've/ wanted to.

He's an idiot, but he's not. He's obnoxiously smart and ridiculously caring and /gentle./ He's so. God. Damn. Gentle. Normally I don't spend the night with people that easily, okay? I like to play a little harder to get. But that night, I stayed over. I'll give myself the benefit of the doubt and say it's because I was too tired to come up with an excuse not to. And, I dunno.. maybe I wanted to let him win just a little bit. But that night, he touched me like I was something fragile. Like I was something precious. Like he was worried if he made a mistake I would've shattered and the world would put him on trial for destroying a priceless piece of art or something. I kind of liked it. I've never had anbody touchme like that. And, afterwards, he just held me and played with my hair and whispered stupidly sweet things to me when he thought I'd fallen asleep, I let him think I'd fallen asleep, and he talked about how much he adored me and how wonderful I am and how lucky he was. 

I let him indulge me. It's been a while since anyone did.

I guess It's been a while since I let anyone.