A Dance Of Gods ✓

1. The Flame

Taylor

I watch his chest slowly rise and fall, the strongest sense of peace I've felt in months taking over. From an outsiders' perspective we look like the standard boring couple. We met seven months ago in our last semester at college- for me just a year and a half after starting; he spilled green tea down the front of my dress on the way to our forensics class- and the rest is history.

There are things that make our relationship exciting. He agreed to work on healing from his past for me- cutting off over half of his friends in the process. You just don't do things like that for people you're not in love with. He agreed to wait for me-granted he's having a hard time accepting god, but he's trying. I finger the tiny silver cross hanging from a chain around my neck and smile.

His lip twitches and he cocks his head to the other side of the pillow, a clear indicator he'll be up soon. I turn the charm over in my right palm. His mother said I've changed him in ways the others haven't and decided to give me their only valuable family heirloom.

  It is hard sometimes, but I try not to judge him for his past sins. His eyes flutter open and I'm met with the dark brown, almost black irises that seem to stare into your soul. He smiles and I can't help but mirror his facial expression. I pull myself dangerously close to his body. He slightly cringes away. "Kaden...."

  "No the... the temptation's too much." He shakes his head.

  He's right of course. Living together before marriage has always been a sin and for someone like him it makes the temptation so much worse, but it's taught us to put up boundaries. We wear clothes to sleep( which neither of us did when we lived alone), read the Bible together most mornings, pray together when we can, go to church together, keep our distance in the bed, avoid secular movies, secular music when possible and eat mostly clean foods from the earth which would've been available during Jesus's time here.

I do have a slight caffeine addiction but I'm working on it so I know god'll forgive me.

I finally snap out of it, scoot back to my side and sit up. I hear the bed creak behind me. Seconds later he leans over, planting a singular quick kiss on my lips.

"I hate that you have to work on your birthday." I say, yawning.

"Oh, it's fine-" he waves me off. "Can't remember the last time I had a day off anyways."

"Well...." I cough. "I'll make your favorites. You get off at five?"

"Mhmn."

"I should... I should be home by then." Awkward silence fills the room. I try to shrug it off as I walk over to my tiny closet to get dressed. As he does the same I grab a button up, dark blue jeans, and black leather boots. I chuckle, memories flooding back from the first time he saw me wear them. He called them stripper's boots- we argued back and forth about whether or not shoe types could be included in the Christian dress code. I won, but we both agreed later on how ridiculous that whole fight was.

I shut myself in the bathroom to slip out of the overpriced silk pajamas Rhea bought me and into the day's outfit. Afterwards, I give myself just a few seconds to observe my appearance in the mirror. I slightly flinch. My hair stands up in ten different places like somebody electrocuted me in my sleep. A single whitehead has appeared overnight near my left ear. I shake my head.

In the grand scheme of things none of it matters. Acne is a normal thing even among people that take care of themselves- I try to tell myself.