You always manage to surprise me. Even though I've known you my whole life, I get to see a new facet of you almost every day.

"Can you kiss me?"

You never get up before eleven. At least, I thought so.
I look back at you with a smile on my face as the taste of metal slowly builds up in the back of my throat - my fingers cold and clammy despite the cup of coffee clutched in-between them. My eyes briefly dart to the surface of the liquid contained within, a reflection of my frightened face staring back up at me in-between the ripples caused by my shaking hands.

I haven't had a cigarette yet.

And though I could have blamed the tremors on the nicotine withdrawal, I knew that I would have been lying.
You're like an angel. The way your hair drapes over your face and pools on the floor like a cascade of sunrays - framing your sleepy eyes like...

..I haven't had coffee yet.
I can't do you justice. I've never been as good with words as you were. My sight never was as sharp as yours, either - even when you haven't had your bamboo salt yet and the cloud of moon-touch dulling the light in your eyes still hung over you, you always picked up on little things that I would have never noticed had you not pointed them out to me.
Setting the cup down, I walked over to you despite the fear slowing my steps and filling my legs with lead. I lean down, touching my lips to yours. For a moment, I'm happy.
You taste like toothpaste. So do I.
You don't say anything as I stand up, but I know you know. For a moment I wish that I'd taken a sip from the coffee - at least then I would have had an excuse.

But I know that you're too observant to fall for something like that. You love me too much.

My hair smells like shampoo, and my fingertips smell like soap. Our kiss doesn't leave your tongue tainted with tar or your lips with clove. You look up at me, concern starting to fill your eyes as your brows knit together in worry.
I'm sorry. I wish I could want you as much as you wanted me. I love you. I really do. If I said 'I love you' with every breath from now until the day we drift off together, it wouldn't be enough to convey how much you mean to me. If we kissed a million times a day, there wouldn't be enough days left in the sun's life for me to be satisfied, but..

"You haven't smoked yet. Is it because.."

It's not - but I can't bear to disappoint you. I ruffle your hair, softly smiling down at you as your question stops short.
You're like an angel.
Nodding, I roll up my sleeve and reach for the knife on the kitchen counter.

I'm sure that when Iehudiel looked down on Eve with eyes of mercy and forgiveness, despite everything..

Eve was probably scared too.