The Guardian

The Guardian


I sat there watching her sleep. I knew she woudnt want me to but i still did. After all what she didnt know woudnt hurt her would it She had been complaining of bad dreams, of nightmares, of something slithering and crawling over her as she slept. And she coudnt sleep deeply anymore as she feared to experience it again. And so there i was to watch over her in my self appointed role as her guardian, to sit in a corner of her room and watch that nothing evil came to her while i watched over her. From where i sat in a shadowed corner of the room, the better to let her sleep undisturbed- i could see just her face and her neck in the moonlight. The soft light framed her hair as an halo around her face. She looked so ethereal when asleep – compared to how she acts when awake- that i felt a slow yearning to reach out and caress her as she slept. To run my finger through her hair and twine a strand around one. To bend down and softly kiss her there – low down on her neck where it joins her collar bone. To blow softly near her ears in the hope of startling her. To give her a hickey – a small love bite on her throat – right in the small of her throat where she usually dabs a bit of perfume in the mornings. To slowly put my cheek against hers and rub it softly with the rough bristles of my beard rubbing against her silky skin. And using my lips and tongue to taste her- her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her ears and her cheeks. But not her lips – no, never her lips- those long slit like lips she kept tightly closed as she slept – unless she woke up and invited me to them. As i sat there running these things through my mind, refining them more and more in my imagination, i saw the window lightening with dawn outside. Time for me to leave, to fade, dissolve with the dust and float out on those sunbeams for my kind are not allowed to walk this earth in the light. She would wake up later in the morning – after a deep sleep with no nightmares and woudnt even give a glance to that corner where on a dusty old chair i had perched all night – watching over her – her very own guardian angel – to return again another night


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