The Saviour

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My eyes open to the sound of my name being called. The voice is deep and familiar and in my groggy state of mine I think it’s my brother. “Erik!” I call out, leaping up. My father stands there, in my doorway, something like grief mixed with sorrow in his downcast evergreen eyes. Before I can apologize he says “You have someone here to see you.” Then he curtly spins on his heels and leaves.  

Upon my father’s departure, Michael Loach steps through the threshold of my door. He stands up straight when he sees me. His grey eyes lock on mine, slightly obscured by the stray hairs falling from his tawny locks. His face covered in shadows from the lack of light in my room. His tan skin mostly covered by a leather biker jacket and dark jeans.  Neither of us say anything; instead I reach out to him and he comes to me.  Before he reaches my bed he whisks off his jacket revealing a black shirt with the arms cut off. He pulls me into his arms and lays next to me on my bed.

“Don’t cry. The only tears that should ever come from those beautiful eyes should come from joy.” my pain subsides with Michael’s arms around me. It was like he was protecting me, and I loved it. I rested my head on his chest and listen to the thumping of his heart. It’s slow and rhythmic melody that seems to match my own.

“Michael?” I whisper, looking up at him.

“Yes?” his voice is deeper than usual.

“What are you doing here?” his eyes meet mine and I can’t break the stare.  It’s like I’m looking at a storm about to crash on the shore of a beach. The most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

“I…I needed…I guess…I… You said I could see you.” He ended lamely. And he was right. I did tell him he could come see me. But did he have to come now? Right now?  When I looked as bad as I felt?  A deep rumbling exploded from his chest then; a growl.

Suddenly I was on my back, staring up into Michael’s nearly black eyes. His eyes scanned every inch of me, slowly, so slowly. “Michael. What are you doing?” I ask genuinely worried.

“Looking.” He asks his voice its same deep tone.

“Looking. Okay. For what exactly?” I wonder.

“An imperfection.” His eyes meet mine again. “I can’t seem to find a single one on you. You’re perfect.”

Before I can help it a deep red flush travels over my face. I look away, embarrassed. “Look at me Emery.” His voice authoritative and I can’t help but gaze up into those opaque pools. “Heavenly.” He whispers almost to himself. And I feel my blush deepen.

He moves his face closer to me then. So close that there’s only a breaths space between my lips and his. I can’t help myself. Without a second thought I close the space. His kiss isn’t gentle or mellow. It’s animalistic, and hungry. His lips burn with passion and I spiral into it. I wrap my arms around his neck and he moves one of his hands behind my back. I arch up to press my abdomen to his. The hard muscled encasing his torso bear down on my injured ribs, not to hard though. The mix of light pain and intense pleasure make my mind whirl. When I finally pull away, it’s for air. Michael grins down at me and all remnants of my pain slips away. He begins to kiss his way across my jaw and down my neck, just when he reaches the flat of my shoulder he stops. “Shit. Now? Why now?” he says squinting his eyes.

“Michael? What’s wrong?”  I question, legitimately concerned.

“I have to go. I just-ugh…remembered I have a business meeting concerning the land I’m trying to buy. I’m sorry.” He says his voice pleading.

“It’s okay.” I say, though the excuse sounds made up.

“I’ll be back though. Just as soon as I’m finished.” And he’s statement puts me at ease. He kisses me again, hard like before.

And just like that, he’s gone.

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