Crescendo, Hush 2 - Webnode

“I have a hard time keeping my hands off you without that
added bonus.”
I laughed, but my expression quickly turned serious. Even
with considerable concentration, I could hardly remember what
life had been like without Patch. At night, when I lay in bed, I
could remember with perfect clarity the low timbre of his laugh,
the way his smile curved slightly higher on the right, the touch of
his hands—hot, smooth, and delicious on my skin. But it was
only with serious effort that I could pick up memories from the
previous sixteen years. Maybe because those memories paled
in comparison to Patch. Or maybe because there was nothing
good there at all.
“Don’t ever leave me,” I told Patch, hooking a finger in the
collar of his shirt and pulling him close.
“You’re mine, Angel,” he murmured, brushing the words
across my jawbone as I arched my neck higher, inviting him to
kiss everywhere. “You have me forever.”
“Show me you mean it,” I said solemnly.
He studied me a moment, then reached behind his neck and
unclasped the plain silver chain he’d worn since the day I met
him. I had no idea where the chain had come from, or the
significance behind it, but I sensed it was important to him. It
was the only piece of jewelry he wore, and he kept it tucked
under his shirt, next to his skin. I’d never seen him take it off.
His hands slid to the nape of my neck, where he fastened the
chain. The metal fell on my skin, still warm from him.
“I was given this when I was an archangel,” he said. “To help
me discern truth from deception.”