There is nothing more beautiful than watching an innocent angel fall apart at my sinful actions. I'm going to ruin her.
"Augustine."
And she comes, looking down at me as she does so.
She glows, lighting up the goddamn room. Her feet barely touch t...
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"Do you want kids someday?" I asked, lying on Eros's chest as he twirled a piece of my hair around.
He nodded, his hand brushing the side of my waist as he pulled the blankets up over my body.
I was still cold.
I liked that he wanted a family. It made me feel a little less broken.
"I want a bunch," I grinned, daydreaming like how I did as little girl, "I used to think that the more kids I had, the less lonely I would ever feel."
"We can have as many as you want, but I promise you will never get lonely," Eros assured me, drawing patterns on my skin.
"You think we'd be good parents?" I asked rhetorically, my thoughts just rolling off my tongue.
"I wouldn't make the same mistakes as my father," he spoke. I nodded, understanding his words.
"You'd make a great father, Eros. You care so much for the family you already have, and I admire that," I told him, this not being the first time I admitted my admiration to him.
"Do you think they'd look more like me or you?" I asked. And when I looked up at him, I only hoped I could see him in my children someday.
"They'd have your nose," he told me.
He placed a soft kiss on my nose, almost as if he was showing me how much he loved it.
How sweet. I used to hate my nose.
I think he made me love it more.
———
I hated planning things. It only made me nervous.
The more planning you did to make things perfect, the more things could go wrong and veer off from expectations.
It didn't really make sense, but to me, I learned from experience.
"He just isn't very talkative," I assured the florist who stared at Eros in a strange way. She definitely thought I was being held against my will or something.
"We don't want anything too crazy, but some arrangements for the venue would be nice," I explained to her.
"And where is this venue?" the lady asked, her fake eyebrows raising a bit too high for my liking.
"The Church. The one downtown..." I replied, but her confusion was evident, "St. Leo's?"
"Ah," she nodded, finally recognizing what I was talking about, "They have darker color palettes there, so brighter flowers are usually preferred. What do you think?"
