Wing Ridden Angel | ✔️

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I straddle his lap, hands next to his head to hold myself up.

His fingers rubbing soothing circles on the top of my bare thighs. I follow the movement, entranced at the gesture. I look at him to find him already looking at me. We smile.

I feel myself falling even deeper into him. I love him. Sometimes it's so much that it hurts. I have fallen in love with his cracked and broken pieces, each one carefully revealing the good that hides inside. Each day I fall more and more and I don't know if I'll survive the landing.

"You deserve more than me," he says quietly. He gives me a sad smile, his eyes distant and fingers keeping their rhythm of rubbing circles.

"What do you mean?" I bite my lip anxiously, I'm not prepared for what he says next.

"You deserve more than me," he starts , taking a deep breath before continuing, " You deserve all the love in the world. Someone who will treat you right and love you unconditionally. Someone who doesn't fuck up all the time. Who isn't known as the 'dealer'. You're so fucking beautiful and smart and kind and yet here you are with me. Of all people." He stops, eyes watering before his hands slide up to my hips and he grips then carefully. "I can't fucking stand knowing I've hurt you. When we broke up I was in pieces. I thought 'I'm such a dumbass. I had the greatest girl in the world and I fucked up. I chose some fucking bitch who probably doesn't remember my name over someone who loves me beyond the moon and stars'. I don't know why you put up with me."

I sit up and look at him. I take in his sad features, the crease between his brows and glossiness of his eyes. His lips are pressed into a thin line and his jaw is clenched.

"You hurt me." His face contorts, like I've physically slapped him.

"I know. I know. I- fuck!" He runs his hands down his face and sighs. "You think I can just blow that off and call it good? I think about it at least twice a day and every. Single. Fucking. Time I feel this pain in my heart."

"And what do you think that did to me?" I ask, already exhausted from this talk. I hate talking about when we were together and how things ended on a sour note.

"It caused you twice the pain. Baby, I know I fucked up and I want you to forgive me, but I know you've already made up your mind."

"I'm working on that forgiveness part," I say quietly. His lips twist into another sad smile, one that looks as if it caused him pain to muster.

He leans up just as I lean down an kisses me softly.

He is damned. A beautiful angel rid of his
wings. My own devil with a halo. I love him. I hate him. I love him. I hate him. I love him.

I call him the devil, because he makes me want to sin, every time he knocks I can't help but let him in.