He was tragic and dangerous, beautiful and beguiling. He could charm the stars from the sky, each falling to earth like a disgraced angel who never once repented their sin.
He was the kind of boy you wouldn’t take home to mother. Not because she would disapprove, but because she would try to seduce him away from you. But you would want to take him home, take his name and have his babies. Lie, cheat, steal for him. Kill for him.
Kill was what I did, and lie and cheat, steal and repeat. I lost my way and my soul, but I had him. He never gave up his name or his babies. Still, I loved him.
I’ve had a long time to consider my choices, to try to figured out what went wrong. My world, once infinite and intoxicating, shrunk to a tiny, solitary room. He disappeared and I wait alone for a letter that never comes.
All that I had is gone, but I have no regrets. That’s not true. I have one – that I didn’t take him with me when I had the chance. Then we could be together forever, fallen angels.