ETHAN KELLEN TRILOGY ft. TAKE ME TO CHURCH

shaking the wings

He remembered. Her heart beat against his chest when he held her that one time. Her breathing filling in the silence between his own. He remembered the way how perfectly she fitted against him and how the natural curves in her back accommodated the slight bowing in his forearm. He liked the softness of her hair pressed up underneath his chin and the warmth of her cheek against his neck. That one embrace, one that was meant only to console a moment, became the one thing that delayed the bullet travelling down the barrel.

Ethan Kellen threw the handgun onto the table, sending a clatter through the cold air. His hands covered his face in deep, inconsolable sorrow as tears moistened the corner of his eyes. A dark, infectious void crawled over his soul, like venom over its victim. He felt as if he was suffocating even though he was the only person in the room. Without opening his eyes, he blindly reached out and groped around until his fingers closed around the cold metal. Breathing heavily, he lifted the gun. It was much heavier than he had remembered, then again, it was hesitance that weighed against him.

As he felt the the weapon kiss the side of his glistening temple, he heard the knob to his door rattle violently. The golden chain clinked against the wood at a wild rhythm, as if it was trying to physically yank itself from the lock. Ethan quickly tossed the handgun in the desk drawer, slammed it shut, and walked over to the shaking door. He didn't bother looking through the keyhole because all he wanted to do was make the noise stop. Wiping away his stray tears, Ethan held the doorknob steady and unlatched the chain.

Who he saw brought a raging wave of emotions he couldn't react upon. There, standing in a pale dress, a woven scarf, and Mary Jane pumps, was her. Her face hadn't changed since he had last seen her nine months ago. The only thing that was different was that her fair hair had been cut shorter and framed her small face in a very becoming way.

Ethan wanted to ask the meaning of her arrival, but words were the last thing he wanted to bring between them. He forced a smile that she returned with a small one. Ethan could sense she wanted to talk, but didn't know where to start. The way her hands twisted together and the way the lines creased across her forehead, told Ethan how dreadfully nervous she was. He knew he had to speak, otherwise the silence would only shorten their encounter.

"I read your paper."

She didn't answer.

"It was very good." Ethan leaned against the doorway and admired her small frame. He had forgotten how much smaller she was alongside of him, but that was no distraction to the endless passion she held inside. Ethan smiled more at thought of how such a little body could contain so many feelings.

"I wasn't supposed to stop by. I swore to myself I would never set foot in this room again."

Ethan remained quiet, even though her words were sharp and startling.

"You weren't meant to see me again when I had left. I told myself never to come back."

"But you did. Why?" Ethan's face scrunched in a pensiveness as he tried to unscramble her puzzle. He thought, too, he would never see her again. In some ways, he liked her better as a faraway memory than a living one; it was safer that way. "Trixie--,"

"I can't stop thinking about you. You're on my mind constantly and I don't want you there." Trixie broke into an embarrassed laugh and her eyes looked away. Stuttering, she continued, "After I had finished the paper, it felt as if you were still there. It's driving me mad and I had to see you. I'm sorry. I can leave." Trixie whipped around, stopped for a moment, and then began walking away.

Ethan remained standing in the doorway, trying to figure out what he should do. To let her walk away would be bringing back the agonizing loneliness he loathed so much, yet, calling her back would be altering the world he knew so well. He couldn't let her into his life-- it wouldn't be safe for her reputation or his. To him, she was still a client.

"What did you get?" Ethan questioned dryly.

The sound of her heels stopped and she replied in a voice clear enough for him to hear, "What do you mean?"

"Your paper. Did it pass?"

"I passed the course. That's all that matters." Trixie turned around fully and made one step towards his house. "Do you think it deserved such a high grade?" The banter in her voice returned and she couldn't help but smirk.

Ethan laughed to himself and replied, "It deserved a higher grade. It was fantastic."

As if his voice was a magnet, Trixie walked back to the doorway and stopped in front of him. "It couldn't have happened if it wasn't for you."

Ethan felt his walls building up. He hated compliments because he felt he was undeserving. To him, he felt as if he had contributed nothing to her project except allow her to see through the dark curtains of a dangerous and scandalous trade. He couldn't possibly mean more to her than just research. "I would invite you in for tea, but--,"

"But what?"

"You know we can't. My profession would never fit with yours. I thank you very much for popping in, but, you have to go. And you can't come back."

Trixie released a long, steady sigh. Her head dropped for a moment before she answered in a voice that told Ethan she had firmly thought through a decision. "I can't do that. I can't walk by this street without wondering how you're getting on. I can't drive by and not think about everything that happened between us in this one room. I didn't think I could ever, ever consider loving anyone like I..."

"It's not love. You like the idea of loving someone of my sorts. I'm not good enough for a woman like you. You deserve a steadier lad who has his life together. I couldn't live on thinking I was your worse mistake."

With a determined step forward into his house, Trixie pushed him back with her hand and stood where he had been standing. "I'm not here to prove that I'm strong enough for both of us or can save you from your life, or whatever. But I know what I want and what I'm willing to risk. Out of every posh gentleman I've come across -- whether snobby or holy -- I couldn't bear being in the same room with them. I couldn't relate to them at all. I had to be someone else with them. But with you," Trixie found her hands resting on his shoulders. He didn't yield against them. "I understand not only you, but who I am."

"I'm barely human."

"But that's enough for me."

Ethan slipped his hands around her waist and guided her inside. He pushed the door closed and backed her up against it. With his forehead resting against hers, he closed his eyes. The feelings he had been suppressing surfaced, causing him to pull her closer. Her arms wrapped around his neck, enclosing him so that he was trapped inside her realm of fearful innocence. He trembled at the thought of her being untouched by the darkness he had experienced; he couldn't comprehend how it must feel to remain pure and unaware of the cruelty towards humanity. He knew he had once been where she was, but it had been so long ago that it was no longer a memory.

"Don't let me leave you, all right?" Trixie whispered through tears.

Ethan brushed his lips lightly over her nose and then her cheek. They hadn't seen each other in a long time and, strangely for both of them, they acted as they had never missed a day.

"Please, don't tell me to leave."

Ethan didn't know how to reply. He wasn't poetic or passionate enough with his words to counter her equally, but he knew his silence wasn't misunderstood.