Skin of a Sinner

by Avina St. Graves

“You’re crazy. You’re fucking crazy.” “I prefer the term ‘artist,’” he quips.

“I’ll be back at school on Monday, and you won’t even notice I’m gone.” She’s wrong. I’ll notice. I always notice.

We never used to be able to high-five without one or both of us flinching, so when she hugged me for the very first time two years ago on my birthday, it was like I saw the light. Then, when she hugged me last year, I’m pretty sure I understood why people find religion.

“No amount of blood spilled will ever be too much for you.” “When will it end?” He smirks. “When I’m in a grave, and even then, Hell won’t keep me from you.”

“Don’t worry. If you break, I’ll put you back together. If you run, I’m running right behind you. If you burn, I’ll burn with you.”

“You will never be alone again. I swear on my life. Wherever you go, I’ll be right there. We’ll always find each other. I’m not going anywhere. It’s a promise. We’re forever, Princess, and nothing will ever come between us. Do you understand?” She sniffles. “Yes.” “Say it.” “We’re forever.” “Swear it.” “I promise I’ll never leave you again.” I grin. “Why?” She narrows her eyes, but wipes her tears away as she raises her chin. But all I can see is the string bracelets fastened to her wrist. Not one. Two. “Because you’re a crazy asshole, but I love you for it.”

“The next time something happens, you call me. Even if it’s just to ask which shirt you should wear or if you're out of snacks. I don’t give a shit if I’m working, sleeping, or half-dead; you grab that phone, and you call me. I’ll pick up whatever you need, even if I’m six feet under, Bella. There isn’t a god in existence that could stop me from getting to you. So you pick up that phone and call me before you even think about calling the cops. Got it?”

“You’d get on your knees for me if I asked. Does that make me your god, Princess?”

My religion starts with “Isa” and ends with “Bella,” and I’d worship at her altar every night. Blessed be the meal I’m about to eat and all that.

I am many things, but I am most definitely not built for the cold. I am wearing four layers, and I still think I might die.

Girl same