My Sweetness

Destructive Bliss

"Why do you run like that?" was the first of many questions meant to inundate me, to break me and permit his unauthorized indulgence into my wild psyche. It was the beginning of numerous rhetorical questions he demanded the answers to. "What are we?" "Do you care?" "You're my life, how was I supposed to react?" "Why did you call?" It was the end of the hurtful and conclusive statements. "I suppose that's just how it is." "I love you." "You're more pain than you're worth."

But by all means, the tears did not fall. His words were not pain, anger, or frustration. They were simply the only expression of relief, safety, and affection he could communicate. I knew he meant me zero harm, so I did not allow the words to stab me and allow me to bleed out.

Remington was dangerous for the soul, but so fulfilling for the spirit.

Today he looks like the perfect picture of a hazard yet a blessing. After the worry I caused him, small hairs on his chin were visible. Little black, prickly hairs sat on his face, eager to grow, and scratched roughly against my delicate skin. His usually spiked hair sat flat against his head underneath the black baseball cap, which faced backwards. Through the new front of the cap, strands of his greasy black hair fell onto his face. His usually perfectly thick eyebrows made me melt with the help of his almond eyes peering deep into my mind, weakening me with the deep look of longing sadness. Those lips practically quivered with each exhale. His soft, pink lips, covered in remnants of dried liquor, shook more the longer his eyes tore me apart. To complete this paradox, the ink deep within his skin tied the danger to his aura, while the love of his disgusting words softened him to bliss.

"Don't say goodbye," he begged me once.

My response was one without thought and one bathed in impulse. The perfect stature of protective destruction in addition to the magnetic pull of him resulted in this beautiful mess.

I grabbed at Remington's tank and yanked him to my chest and pressed my lips into his. The scruff irritated my face in the most pleasant of ways as our lips fought against each other. The heat created by our movements and our passion drove me to places I dreamed of. I climbed into his lap and continued the kiss while it died out in wasted energy. A smile broke us apart while a laugh pushed me into his soft neck.

"My beautiful rainbow," he whispered softly into my hair.

My fingers tapped against his chest as my grip subsided and his shirt relaxed on him. This feeling should be bottled up and preserved for the deprived: absolute euphoria.

"My delectable daddy," I mumbled unknowingly.

A deep chuckle shook my body and sent a shock of anxiety throughout my veins. He must have realized it because a hand rubbed my back as a soothing voice told me: "I like that, little one."