𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬 | 18+

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐒𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈.

I watch as my beautiful girl sleeps peacefully. Ephesian was curled at my side, her breath steady and slow. I move a piece of hair out of her face, sighing softly.

Just months ago, I was stuck in my own shadow. traumatized by war, barring scars from the past, angry at the world for taking my brothers away. Then I met her. My angel. My reason to be alive. It was if god himself answered my prayers.

I remember the first moment I saw her. I remember how gracefully elegant she emerged in front of me at my pops church, how my heart thumped rapidly as her soft voice broke the barrier in my ears.

Ephesian was like this light that broke through my darkness. And when I felt her eyes linger on me — how everything around us seemed to disappear — I could feel the sparks of fireworks corse through my veins. Like a wave of anxiety curling in my sides. I never felt like this; like the very breath in my lungs was swept away by this feeling of her.

Midway through service, I remember seeing the flushness of her cheeks. How she looked just as nervous as I was in that time. When she excused herself to the bathroom, I followed. It was like I was in a trance, and my body moved on its own.

I went to the men's bathroom and waited. and waited. and waited until I thought she would be leaving the women's restroom as well just so I could speak to her. I wanted to ask for her name, I wanted to know what it was like to be the most beautiful women ever that walked amongst this earth. I wanted to know her story. her fears, her dreams, her thoughts, her feelings, everything.

That same day, when I saw her being harassed by those dumbass niggas, I was prepared to go to war. I was ready to kill all of them and make every last one of 'em look like a suicide. I might've left the marines, but the marines didn't leave me. It's apart of me. She's apart of me.

Those next few weeks were like hell. Every Sunday, I was waiting to see her. Every Sunday, I would look at my watch and wonder when she'd come in through those doors.

By then, I lost hope of finding her. My angel. I prayed every night that maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to see ephesian again. Or talk to her. And god heard me. That night she texted me — the same night I was reading the book of Ephesians — I felt those same bundles of nerves corse through my veins.

When I looked at my phone, there it was. Her number. I was smiling ear to ear. Finally, I could talk to her again. I told myself I would never fall in love again. But I did. I fell for her. And I vowed that I would protect her, care for her, support her, and be there for her.

I wanted desperately to guard her from everything that was harmful, anything that was deemed to be dangerous to her nativity. But Damn, did she prove me wrong. It was like she hid behind this shell of anxiety and shyness, trying to hide her true identity. Her anger burned line flames, Her passion swirled in her fire, Her body protecting everything she's ever loved.