Page 118 of Eyes Like Angel
The next step was a razor. Based on her reaction, she stepped back before I held her in my arms and kissed her wet head.
“I’ll be here,” I reminded her and knelt down, leveling my eyes on her bikini area. As I reached for the razor, with my onehand, I lathered it with soap, before spreading the soap around her pussy.
Her face reddened, her emerald eyes widened in shock when I touched her, despite we had sex a few times, at the church during the Rivers Foundations and today.
Shaving the long stubbles, the little curls on her, I kissed her belly and continuing on shaving. She hasn’t said a word or two since I took care of her, demonstrating the normalcy on what girls do and how they do it. I never gave this much hospitality as anyone until I met Eva.
Eva remained still, her face reddened each time I kissed a part of her.
As I rinsed her, the bubbles trailed onto her legs, I kissed her clit, sucking on it, circling with my warm tongue, watching her head threw back, her hair flowed like soft waterfall, drawing a quiet sigh. Rose onto my feet, I kissed her everywhere—her cheeks, her forehead, her jaw, her neckline, her collarbone, her breasts, and finally, her lips.
Nibbling on her earlobe, I whispered, “My sweet angel.”
She felt safe, and everything was perfect.
***
We spent time cleaning together in the shower, long before it has gotten cold after I showed her the basics on how to do a proper self-care. We took off and helped ourselves from getting sick. Eva was blushing the entire time I was in the shower with her, and I patted her body and hair dry with a spare towel, giving her my spare clothes and sleep onto the bed beside me.
We spent hours making love, tangling our limbs and heat between the sheets, and kissing each other’s lips in fervent pace, and warmth of longing tenderness between us grew closer. Slowly but surely, Eva was opening herself up to me. I never wanted this bond, this time we shared, to end.
“What’s this mark on your forearm?” Eva asked in a lighter voice, scanning the bold, black ink, a Gothic font inked across the left side of my veiny forearm.
“This,” I started, lifting my inked arm up. “This is something to remind me when I’m at my lowest.”
“I couldn’t read it,” she shamefully said, tucking her face in the sheets.
Unable to figure the lettering marked on my forearm, seeing her pouted face.
I practically snorted, letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, sweet angel. I’ll read it for you,” I said to her, pressing my lips onto her forehead, as I delivered it aloud:
Heroes are the villains in a monster’s story.
But sometimes nature of evil is born.
Life must deal evil with evil.
“Evil with evil,” she repeated, tracing her scar-burnt hands on my skin, sent a tingle down my spine. “Why must fight evil with evil? Is there a particular context?”
She assumed it’s a famous quote from the novels or a show, particularly she’s been missing out on, or been deprived on.
Oh, my darling, beloved angel. Eva still has so much to learn.
“Sometimes being good wasn’t the best option. People can be…unpredictable and cruel. Things that transpired in our lives, within every ticking hour, are often the most hurtful. Some people said it’s a lesson, while others said it’s a punishment, and a few said the punishments we earned are well-deserved because we ‘asked for it’. I knew a fine line extensively distinct between personal hurt and lesson. Kindness can hurt, like a finger is unknown to be flamed by fire. Why be so graciousabout it, and use it as a weapon? If people gossip about a certain someone, and that said certain someone gives them the same mistreatment. But often times, we’re theevilones, and those who expected us to be more mature and refined, are those who masked and basked themselves in victimhood. The game gets boring, running in circles. Why waste being kind when we can do so much more capability?”
“It doesn’t feel right,” she murmured, snuggling against my pillow.
My gaze softened at her words, her embrace. “Maybe, but sometimes in life it’s worth risking on being evil. The cycle will never end if we keep being kind to the people who wronged us.”
“Still,” she resumed, brushing my muscled arm with her fingertips, “it feels wrong. Jesus Christ sacrificed himself to save us, and pay him back in kindness. The evil in this world will be temporary, and the goodness always prevails.”
As I bit my tongue from the words I didn’t wish to dispute or justify, I nestled myself deeper into her touch. “Maybe, but sometimes…we have to sacrifice the good in ourselves in order to win and survive. The only time we show our goodness is when someone gives us the attention we need, and it’s rare, like a diamond in a rough. Or a priceless jewel buried deep in the sea.”
“I have God,” she justified while playing with the bracelet I gifted her.
I lifted her right hand up and peppered it with my kisses.
She took a deep intake of breath.
