Angel (h.s)
- Reads 72
- Votes 5
- Parts 1
MatureOngoing<5 mins
Last published Sun, Oct 25, 2015
"I have a question" I sipped my coffee once more.
"Shoot," he placed his mug on the coaster listening intently.
"Why do you call me 'Angel'?" I asked, desperate to hear his answer.
"Because when I see you I can't even fathom the hours of work God must have put into your face, sculpting your perfectly shaped little nose, your eyes that have flecks of deep brown married with lighter hues, and lips so perfectly shaped and heavenly I have to fight the urge not to kiss you every minute of the day. Oh, the way you talk; God yes you may be young but you're wise beyond your years. You are my best I'll ever know. You're mine, Angel."
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