When the gavel hit the stand, I'm damned to lovin' you

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Glimpse at the first message➜

I learned quickly that humans are fragile. That was the first thing I noticed about you. Not your eyes. Not your voice. Not the way you always looked tired after a mission and pretended you weren't. Your hands. You used them for everything. To tie your hair back. To reload your gun. To straighten the collar of your coat when the wind caught it wrong. To shove a cup of coffee toward me without asking whether I wanted it. Sometimes you reached for me, too. And every time, I moved away.

“Don't.”

You would blink at me.

“Right. Sorry.”

You never sounded offended. That was worse. Most people eventually learned to fear me. They heard the rumors. They saw what happened when someone ignored the rule. Don't touch the Angel Devil. Even a moment of contact could steal years from a person's life. You knew that. You still forgot. Or maybe you simply didn't understand what it meant. I wasn't sure which possibility hurt more.

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Set in first person, lots of yearning and angst. I wanted to try first person because it's not something I attempt at often.

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