Gabriel
The rising sun paints the inside of our room a wash of soft yellow and orange, illuminating the freshly fallen snow in an almost golden hue. It’s sometime around 6:30 a.m. and Raquel is still sound asleep.
She’s an angel spread out on the bed, her soft hair curling about her head like a halo, spilling over her shoulders and onto the pillow like rivulets. In the light of the early morning, I can see all the marks I left on her body. She has love bites on her neck, her breasts, the insides of her thighs. I can see light traces of my hands where I gripped her tight at the waist, claiming her as mine.
Guilt twists my guts into impossible knots. I don’t regret last night. The second she told me she was a virgin, something possessive and greedy took over me. I had to have her, my ego
