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Perfectly Flawed

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Perfectly Flawed
by Lady Midath

She once told me that I was the most perfectly flawed man that she had ever known. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? perfectly flawed. It didn't make sense to me at the time. I remember that I had laughed and hugged her after she had said that, holding her close to me. I could feel the heart beating against my chest, the way her skin had smelt. Roses, that was it. She had smelled just like roses.

God I loved her so much.

"You're eyes are so sad sometimes Johnny." She had whispered late one night as we laid in bed together, holding each other listening to the wind as it howled outside. She was nestled against me and I felt safe in the warmth of her body.

"So sad that sometimes you frighten me."

She's gone now, left me. Couldn't handle the magic any more. It scared her, sent her running back to Ireland, back to where she felt safe. Only she took the most vital piece of me with her without even realizing it.

"I love you so much John but I can't live with what you are....with what you're involved with."

And could I blame her? No, of course not. How could I? I had planned to give it all up, the magic and the rest of the bollocks that went with it, but it was too late. I have been involved with so much crazy badness for so long, that now I don't have to go looking for it anymore-it finds me.

"So perfectly flawed John." She had said the night before she had left. "And that is why you frighten me."

Then it had all gone fucking crazy.

The bastards that had tried to kill her had been the final straw. She had faced me down then and I can still recall how her eyes had burned with rage. Rage at me, at what I was, and all I could do was plead with her not to leave me.

Oh yes, I had begged her to stay, leaving what little pride I had left at the door. I had needed her so badly, she had been the only good, the only decent thing in my whole life but to no avail. She left without a backward glance and as for me... well I went on didn't I.

And since then I had tricked the devil, stolen an angel's heart and even rescued a child that I had once accidentally condemned to Hell. But still there is a part of me missing, a part that I will never regain.

"I love you John but I can't deal with what you do, with what you are."

And I close my eyes, fighting down the pain and remember green eyes and coal black hair. Miss Ireland. Kit, my Kit.

So perfectly flawed...

And only now do I understand what she meant.