Salvation’s Gotta Come

Luka

I know there are angels singing somewhere
I hope they sing for us

Her petulance is just sweet enough to slide, though Luka’s breath washes over her damp skin as he chuckles. “Who is the doctor here?” The answer is neither of them, and she should probably be seeing an actual doctor, but then she wouldn’t get any kisses at all.

Intrigued by her boldness, Luka grins and concedes by standing as he moves further up her arm; a lingering kiss to the inside crook of her elbow, another to her bicep, and two more that crest up along the curve of her shoulder where he pauses. Her ear is close enough now that he can murmur for her attention alone, heedless of those coming and going to the fountain. “And now?” He certainly hadn’t expected this to be the defining moment of his visit to Torchline, but what young man is stupid enough to turn down a beautiful woman asking for kisses? “If you need more, perhaps my kisses are not strong enough.”

For our bruised mouths are an act of resistance
and our singing hearts, together, make a beautiful prayer