Hawke

by Jescie Hall

Not that I have anything against Christians or any other religion. To each their own. But, as soon as your religion has ridiculous expectations for who you need to be, or chastises you for making mistakes, it just doesn’t seem healthy anymore.

“Wreck me, Cole.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He flips my hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck to him. “I was thinking about you, too,” he whispers against my skin.

“I’m staring at the only thing that’s got me feeling things after years of feeling numb. The only eyes that have ever made me question myself and who I am in their reflection. You’re right here in front of me, yet we’re just out of reach.”

“Never stop,” I whisper against his lips. “Never stop what?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down my back. “Needing me,” I say, before we fall back into our kiss like we never left it.

We’re inches apart again, our eyes reflecting each other’s, seeing the soul inside, knowing it, and finding our lost home again. “Wreck me, shatter me, destroy me, be the ruin of me. I don’t care, just make me feel again,” he whispers against my lips.

“Trust me, baby, you do.”