Shattered Glass

He loved him

God he loves him. So much. He looks into his eyes and sees everything he's ever wanted. The dazzling blue looked like the sky and the sea. There were flecks of gold all over. The part, however, that was most interesting and intense about his eyes was that they were so expressive. When he was sad, they darkened to the color of the night sky, and the flecks of gold turned a hazy silver. When he was happy they lightened so much they were almost silver. He loved his eyes the most when he was angry. Not at him of course, that was never a good thing. When he disagreed and got angry, this huge beautiful spark in his eyes like lightning. So quick and sudden but so everlasting. Leaving a scorch onto the flesh of his victims.

He was so small, very feminine for a man. He wasn't skinny, but very lithe and lean. All muscle pressed nicely against the bone. He was a small 5'6, and when he stood next to my 6'2 frame it took everything in me not to just pick him up and give him a good squeeze. Sometimes I did. And every time he'd let out a small giggle, telling me to put him down but I could see he didn't really want me to.

He was the warmest Higher I have ever met. He put his arms as tight around me as he could and curls his head into my should. He was always cold, leaving his skin flushed and hot and it made me want to curl up to him.

You'd think that he was the cuddle bug, but it was much different. He did like to cuddle, but it was usually me who draped across his chest but the bed. Eventually he would turn towards me, and I would curl into his soft, small warm chest.

A tear rolled down my face, and I took another sip of the burning liquor. I loved him. So goddamn much. That stupid drunkard took him from me. I would never curl up to go again. I looked at the draw. I picked up the gone and walked out the door, swearing that he would avenge him, or see him soon.