Art part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

I’m wondering. I have this plan for the Angel to reveal his name later, but it is kind of annoying not to refer to him by name. Is it annoying to read? I’m wondering if the suspense is worth it.

Not nude like the story, but a wonderful picture

Not nude like the story, but a wonderful picture

“I’ll go grab you a pillow and a sheet.” I said as I put the glasses in the sink. When I returned to the couch Jared had pretty much already fallen asleep. He looked so cute when he slept. The term angelic came to mind, and I laughed at the juxtaposition between my perfect sculpted angel whose face was perfect and sad, and Jared’s whose was a bit sloppy but happy.

I went to my room, and as I stripped of my clothes I could feel the weight of my eyelids. I had not been tired in the other room, but the second Jared had passed out I felt the fatigue from the all night sculpting hit me. My arms ached and my back throbbed with a dull slow pain. I collapsed onto my bed and instantly my muscles felt relieved to no longer hold me up. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

* * *

I awoke on a starlit beach, the frothy waves rolling in the background as they approached the sand beneath my feet. It was a place I knew well, because I came here often in my dreams. The sand was white, firmly packed, and the waves had grazed over it to make a pattern like Agate rock. There was always a slight breeze, enough to cool your face, and there always seemed to be the soft tinkling of a piano somewhere in the distance. I always loved that this place had music, I reveled in the soundtrack of my dreams.

I thought that this place, this part of my soul, was gone forever. I had locked it away months ago, but standing in the beauty of it I could not remember why. Why had I consciously tried will my dreams never to return here?

“I see you’ve come back.” Sang a voice from behind. A voice so light and smooth that I felt like I might actually float when the notes reached my ear. It was his voice, the voice of my angel, my heart rate sped up, and I spun around to see if he was really here.

He was.

As my eyes set on him I was completely paralyzed. It was like seeing him for the first time, only so much stronger. The first I had seen him, he was a beautiful stranger, the most incredible looking creature in this or any universe, but still, a stranger. This time, I knew him, but it had been months since I had seen him, and now I could see he was still even more perfect than I had remembered. He stood there, not moving a muscle, maintaining a sort of stillness which made him seem more like a statue than man.

He let my eyes drink in each part of him, his healthy sun kissed skin, curled hair which was full and carefully styled, wide expressive amethyst eyes parted by his sculpted Greek nose, blade like shoulder blades with two small scars indicating where his wings had once been, smooth cut chest, two perfectly proportioned pink nipples, his lean but etched torso, muscled flat stomach, the sharp lines of his Adonis belt running above his groin and up over his hip, a cock which was so stunning that it seemed impossible to say more than that it was simply perfect, powerful thighs, sinewy calves, and solid sturdy feet. He would be impossible for anyone to sculpt, and should he succeed no one would believe such beauty ever lived and breathed. I had been a fool to try to make him, and that was when I suddenly remembered why I had tried to avoid this place.

I had failed him. The last time I was here, I cried in his lap, apologizing to him for my lack of ability. He held me as I cried, stroked my hair, told me it was alright, but then I felt something wet and warm on my neck, I looked up, and there was the sight which I had run from. My angel, this creature I loved, had tears forming streams down his cheeks, and once they fell from his face they turned red as blood. I had been his final hope. A way for him to leave his world, but I had not been able to complete my journey. I couldn’t bring him into my world, and so he mourned his fate. I had become hysterical, telling him I would try again, but he told me it was too late. His heart was broken, and, even if I had succeeded in making a statue of him, his sorrow would keep him here forever. An angel without hope could do nothing but weep.

That night I had woken up screaming, and for weeks I tried to will myself back to this beach, to console him, to give him hope again, to give me another chance, but I couldn’t find it. My grades suffered, I was too depressed to leave my room, until finally one day I realized I couldn’t remember his face, I had lost the color of his eyes, and I knew nothing I could do would bring me back to him. I tried to lock the memory of him away, and little by little I had succeeded.

Jared had opened Pandora’s box, and all of the memories of this creature had escaped back into every corner of my mind. That flood of memory must have granted me a second chance, and I knew this time, with Jared at my side, I would succeed. I smiled at him, and at once tears in his eyes began to flow. I reached hand to his face, wiping them away.

“Please don’t shed another tear. I have returned, because this time will be different.” I said.

“What has changed?” he asked, as his tears stopped for a moment.

“Something wonderful has happened. I met someone, someone who seems to make me able to do the impossible. Someone whose presence has let me bring something from my dreams into reality. I have done it once, with something I hated. A nightmare.”

“Do you hate me too?” he asked.

“No….I could never hate you. I love you, My love for you is so much stronger than any hate I could feel. I will make you, You will be as perfect in my world as you are here. I know it.” It was strange. I had never spoken with confidence like this before, but I knew it was true. Jared and I, together we could do what I could not do alone.

“I can see you believe what you say.” He said, and I did.

“Then have hope, believe in my once more, I can do what I promise, but there is no point if you don’t have faith. I don’t want a replica of you, I want you.” Seeing him again, I wanted him more than ever. To be awake and see his face only once would be enough for me to die happy.

“I will try.” He said, but I could tell the flame of hope was already flickering inside him. His tears no longer flowed.

“I will succeed.” I promised him, and as he came closer to embrace me I found myself drifting away.

My eyes opened, and I was back in my room. My muscled tensed for a second, angry for being denied the pleasure my angels embrace would have provided, but quickly they relaxed as I realized I would see him again. He would have hope when I saw him again, and his touch would be worth the wait.


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