My poor Mikey.
Sitting on his bed all bruised and battered.
I went over to him.
Standing over him like a shield.
I'd happily take a bullet for him.
I cup his face.
He winced.
Tears stain his cheeks.
I rub his cheeks.
I lean down and kiss his cut temple.
I'll kiss it better.
I'll kiss him better.
"Kiss my lips better," He begs like a kitten wanting to be adopted into a loving family.
I obey.
Lowering my lips against his.
He tastes the same but with a bit more dried blood.
But that's my Mikey.
I pull away.
He smiles,
I smile.
"I'll never let anyone hurt you like that again."
