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The faint smell of incense fragranced his well groomed apartment.
"Myrrh. Just like the gift that was brought to Jesus."
He walked over to the large, multi-bulb floor lamp and plugged it in. Black light bulbs lit up the intricate tapestries that hung on the wall. He turned toward me and smiled. "Let me show you my art."
He escorted me over to the canvases dotting his purple-lit walls. He reached for a nearby Bluetooth speaker--a speaker visibly well used with many stories behind it--and with a press of a button, brought sultry music into my ears. He wrapped his athletic arms around me and instantly, my lungs swelled to take in as much of him as I could.
He was introducing me to his world. I was soaking up his life: the music taste we shared, the art we created, the military experience we witnessed, the flashing lights that tickled places within our hearts. The EDM thumped and I could feel him pressing against me as he explained his life. How did I get so lucky? Why is he here?
He was the finest boy I had ever been with. It was the second time in my life where I didn't feel so alone. I felt seen, heard, understood without a single word spoken. He carried his weight. I didn't have to walk him through it. He knew what to do, what to say, where to take me. He set the stage and called in the night. He was excited, dominant, proactive. He was incredibly close to perfection and was absolutely the most excitement I had found in a long time. He came down to a woman's level to build her energy up with his own. He was fit. A lifeguard. 2% body fat. Tanned. An Italian Virgo who dressed like an Armani model and made both men and women turn their heads. But he only looked at me.
The scent of myrrh whirled around my senses as his cross necklace draped across my face. The devil whispered in my ear: "Just like the gift that was brought to Jesus." My body replied with an explosion of red hot firecrackers that was impossible to stop. Another firecracker. And another. Two more after that.
I was losing my grip on reality. Last month, I was fine. I was cleaning my house, running errands, smiling. That was before I knew what his skin tasted like. He warned me that would happen. Even now, I can feel my lungs swelling at the thought.
I'm putting these experiences on my tab. The bill is running high and I'm afraid that the devil will come to collect it soon. I'm pushing my luck and getting sloppy. I can't keep this up much longer but oh, how I never want it to stop. I can see the end goal, however. But where there is one, there will be many more.
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