He held my face in his palms, those malevolent eyes deceptively peaceful. Like the eye of a hurricane. No wind. No rain. No storm. But surrounded by chaos and followed by mayhem. Destruction was the only thing it left behind, leaving nothing it touched unruined. That was Saint. A deadly hurricane, and there was not a chance in hell I’d survive the storm.
He tasted of earth and water, fire and ice, salvation and destruction all together in a tender kiss that held me captive throughout a stolen moment in time.