Warm Skies

I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT SAGA OR ITS CHARACTERS, JUST MINE.

I use to dream of him. I don't know who he was though. The glowing light captured in his hair, his honeysuckle eyes and his soothing voice.

He would hold me and whisper warming, all most boiling passionful words in my ear as he caressed me at every turn.

The sun shined down on us, brightening and heating my flesh that was exposed to the world. His body shimmered with a impossible effect.

They looked like diamonds encrusted into his flesh. He looked like a man only the Greek's had carved from stone into life.

Just like the legend of that man who was blessed by Aphrodite, the statue he carved and loved come to life, so have I been blessed.

He wasn't a statue, he wasn't Greek art and he was all my dreams come into flourishing light. This angelical creatures name, Carlisle Cullen.

This man was my life, my heart and soul. Without him, I would become nothing. His eyes rested on me only. "I love you," passed his smooth lips.

My heart skipped bounds but he held me to this earth. He was my angel. What need for heaven have I without him. As he kissed me the world shattered.