Change
folder
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,104
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,104
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Angel?
The next day, Mak took the same route home, hoping that the mysterious punk was on the steps again.
Unfortunately, the stairs were empty except for a lone piece of paper sitting idly under a rock. With curiousity getting the better of him, Mak swiftly snatched the note, throwing the rock carelessly over his shoulder. He heard it hit something, but he was already too immersed in the message to care.
After reading it thorough twice, the blonde hastily stuffed it into his pocket and began walking down the alleyway.
He stopped at an unmarked door and retrieved another note that was taped to its surface. Unfolding it, he saw that it was the same familiar scribble as the last message. A faint smirk crossed his face as he saw a name written at the bottom.
"Chester," he said under his breath as he pocketed the secnond note.
He followed its directions and soon found himself hopelessly lost n the labyrinth of alleyways. Desperately, he looked around for any kind of sign to tell him where he was located but found that all the street markers had vanished.
Glumly, he looked at his watch. Apparently, it had stopped altogether, the seconds hand teasing him, stuck between two numbers, mechanically clicking back and forth.
He ripped the cheap watch off angrily and threw it as hard as he could into the nearby dumpster; it landed with a loud thunk inside.
"Damn thing," he scowled loudly.
"Never thought you'd be one to swear," a silky voice said from the rooftop.
Grimacing, Mak glanced up, the sun irritating his eyes. Above, Chester was sitting on the edge of the four-story building, grinning.
"What are you doing up there?" the blonde asked in a loud voice, standing up to get a better view.
"Waiting," the punk said plainly, a light smirk playing across his face.
Without warning, Chester leapt from the roof.
Mak let out a strangled cry as he watched the taller boy fall a story.
Suddenly, something violently erupted from Chester's back, tearing through his mesh shirt.
The blonde froze, clearly too stunned to talk as the punk's wings carried him lightly to the ground.
Before Mak could regain his voice, Chester explained,
"Yes, they're real. And no, you can't touch them."
The shorter male stared in awe, attempting to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
"Are you...an angel?" Mak choked, his eyes wide.
Unexpectedly, the punk began to laugh, making the blonde feel quite stupid for asking such a question.
After he calmed himself, Chester answered,
"Of course not."
He broke out into another fit of laughter before continuing,
"Angels? Are you serious?" It was getting harder and harder to control his laughter, but the taller boy eventually settled down, biting his lip.
"What's so funny?" the blonde demanded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and anger rising.
"Sorry, but the mere idea of angels is ridiculous," Chester said as his feathers fluttered in the light breeze.
"And why do you say that?" Mak asked.
"Messengers of God?" the punk replied, "Right. It's just something else that humans invented."
"Are you human?"
"Not at all," the taller male responded.
"Then what are you?" Mak said, innocently curious.
"Why are you always asking questions?" Chester replied, abruptly changing the subject.
Unsure of how to answer, the shorter boy held his tongue.
"That's what I thought," the winged male stated coldly.
"I'm sorry," the blonde apologized gently.
"It's fine," Chester said, his temper receding.
"I should be going home," Mak said with a hint of sadness.
"Alright," the punk agreed, slightly disappointed, "Let me show you the way out."
Silently, the punk's wings sank into his back once again and he slipped his jacket over his torn shirt. The now-wingless male grabbed Mak's hand and began to lead him out of the urban maze.The shorter boy said nothing as Chester's gloved fingers interlaced themselves in his.
Once they were out of the labyrinth, the taller boy started toward the blonde's house.
"Don't you need directions?" asked Mak as they headed down a familiar street.
"No," replied Chester as his grip on the blonde tightened, "I know where your house is."
The younger male felt himself blush deeply and he squeezed the punk's hand in return.
When they were about a block away, the taller boy stopped before saying,
"I don't think your parents would approve of you hanging out with me."
Mak nodded in understanding and reluctantly released the older male's hand.
Chester turned to walk away, buttoning his jacket to protect himself from the icy wind.
"Will you be there tomorrow?" the blonde blurted out suddenly.
The punk faced him before asked,
"Where? At the stairs"
"Yeah," Mak answered, "By the library."
"Well, that all depends," Chester replied slyly.
"On what?"
"If you're going to be there or not."
The taller male walked away, taking out his pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips.
Mak watched in silence as the punk slowly became a dot on the sidewalk. He released a heavy sigh before heading home, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
Unfortunately, the stairs were empty except for a lone piece of paper sitting idly under a rock. With curiousity getting the better of him, Mak swiftly snatched the note, throwing the rock carelessly over his shoulder. He heard it hit something, but he was already too immersed in the message to care.
After reading it thorough twice, the blonde hastily stuffed it into his pocket and began walking down the alleyway.
He stopped at an unmarked door and retrieved another note that was taped to its surface. Unfolding it, he saw that it was the same familiar scribble as the last message. A faint smirk crossed his face as he saw a name written at the bottom.
"Chester," he said under his breath as he pocketed the secnond note.
He followed its directions and soon found himself hopelessly lost n the labyrinth of alleyways. Desperately, he looked around for any kind of sign to tell him where he was located but found that all the street markers had vanished.
Glumly, he looked at his watch. Apparently, it had stopped altogether, the seconds hand teasing him, stuck between two numbers, mechanically clicking back and forth.
He ripped the cheap watch off angrily and threw it as hard as he could into the nearby dumpster; it landed with a loud thunk inside.
"Damn thing," he scowled loudly.
"Never thought you'd be one to swear," a silky voice said from the rooftop.
Grimacing, Mak glanced up, the sun irritating his eyes. Above, Chester was sitting on the edge of the four-story building, grinning.
"What are you doing up there?" the blonde asked in a loud voice, standing up to get a better view.
"Waiting," the punk said plainly, a light smirk playing across his face.
Without warning, Chester leapt from the roof.
Mak let out a strangled cry as he watched the taller boy fall a story.
Suddenly, something violently erupted from Chester's back, tearing through his mesh shirt.
The blonde froze, clearly too stunned to talk as the punk's wings carried him lightly to the ground.
Before Mak could regain his voice, Chester explained,
"Yes, they're real. And no, you can't touch them."
The shorter male stared in awe, attempting to comprehend what he had just witnessed.
"Are you...an angel?" Mak choked, his eyes wide.
Unexpectedly, the punk began to laugh, making the blonde feel quite stupid for asking such a question.
After he calmed himself, Chester answered,
"Of course not."
He broke out into another fit of laughter before continuing,
"Angels? Are you serious?" It was getting harder and harder to control his laughter, but the taller boy eventually settled down, biting his lip.
"What's so funny?" the blonde demanded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and anger rising.
"Sorry, but the mere idea of angels is ridiculous," Chester said as his feathers fluttered in the light breeze.
"And why do you say that?" Mak asked.
"Messengers of God?" the punk replied, "Right. It's just something else that humans invented."
"Are you human?"
"Not at all," the taller male responded.
"Then what are you?" Mak said, innocently curious.
"Why are you always asking questions?" Chester replied, abruptly changing the subject.
Unsure of how to answer, the shorter boy held his tongue.
"That's what I thought," the winged male stated coldly.
"I'm sorry," the blonde apologized gently.
"It's fine," Chester said, his temper receding.
"I should be going home," Mak said with a hint of sadness.
"Alright," the punk agreed, slightly disappointed, "Let me show you the way out."
Silently, the punk's wings sank into his back once again and he slipped his jacket over his torn shirt. The now-wingless male grabbed Mak's hand and began to lead him out of the urban maze.The shorter boy said nothing as Chester's gloved fingers interlaced themselves in his.
Once they were out of the labyrinth, the taller boy started toward the blonde's house.
"Don't you need directions?" asked Mak as they headed down a familiar street.
"No," replied Chester as his grip on the blonde tightened, "I know where your house is."
The younger male felt himself blush deeply and he squeezed the punk's hand in return.
When they were about a block away, the taller boy stopped before saying,
"I don't think your parents would approve of you hanging out with me."
Mak nodded in understanding and reluctantly released the older male's hand.
Chester turned to walk away, buttoning his jacket to protect himself from the icy wind.
"Will you be there tomorrow?" the blonde blurted out suddenly.
The punk faced him before asked,
"Where? At the stairs"
"Yeah," Mak answered, "By the library."
"Well, that all depends," Chester replied slyly.
"On what?"
"If you're going to be there or not."
The taller male walked away, taking out his pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips.
Mak watched in silence as the punk slowly became a dot on the sidewalk. He released a heavy sigh before heading home, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.