Wings of Light

♧ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝔼𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: "𝕀 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕀'𝕝𝕝 ℕ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦"♧

Thereafter, the middle-aged mother left the bedroom which she shared with the former aspiring Monsignor beyond relieved, due to the fact he wasn't distracted by her temporal absence as she yearned just to have a glass of water from the kitchen.

What relieved her more was their little sweet ray of sunshine still kipping peacefully, nestled in the soft, convenient bed sheets of her crib.

No baby cries. No baby whines. No baby squeals were forming a high-pitched symphony in the two-story house and causing any pother, which was mildly irritating and rendering his parents huffing, incapable of collecting the necessary hours of good night sleep.

When Judy descended the lacquered stairway to the first floor, she headed to the kitchen and gathered an empty, clean glass from the upper kitchen cabinet, thus, filling it with a pool of fresh, lukewarm water. Her caramel brown irises were darted to the snowy landscape that was part of her mansion's exterior.

After sipping a couple of wee sips from the glass of water, resurrecting her dry throat and dehydrated body, she lowered her stare to her bare feet which they were feeted in the fuzzy, comfy slippers.

Her train of thoughts railed through her mind like an incessantly buzzing train even when it was only four o'clock in the morning.

Once she was about to gulp a handful of bigger sips from the glass of water, tilting her head to meet the snowy, yet somber outdoor sight as her naturally rosy-coloured, luscious lips greased the frangible glass, hardly her anterior ivory, firm yet for her age teeth brushed the glass material.

Haphazardly, she caught a glimpse of a delusive masculine, burly figure wandering around the mansion's yard, his shoes stumping the snow as if they were stomping a bothersome fly, flying for hours and buzzing frequently.

It was Cayden's silhouette roaming like spectral, ducked his head as his top hat was capping his grizzly-brownish hair.

The former sister of the church was beyond baffled by how her kidnapper and former love interest were doing in the wee hours of the morning. Little did she know how he was able to violate her personal space by stepping into a foreign property that isn't his.

"But he is supposed to be arrested by the cops." Mumble echoed by vibrating her oral caverns in the almost jet-black kitchen as the dim nocturnal light dispersed through the window's glasses. She choked with some water, replenishing her inflated throat with liquid. "What for heaven's sake he's doing in the yard? Is this some kind of a dream or nemesis for my escape?"

All of a sudden, the Italian emigrant's translucent ghost charged up to the window glass, grimacing his mildly wrinkled, maize-stained face due to the cigarette he had taken a drag at them for two decades.

A ferocious, unspeakable snarl was tattooed on his complexion, gritting his yellow teeth, transfixing his glaring chocolate brown eyes to the older woman, walloping with a balled fist on the flimsy window glass repeatedly, earning her attention as she didn't peel a single word, fortunately.

"What a bitch! Ya escaped from the attic and you didn't even bother to walk away from my house with yar poof friend and that dumb blond escorting ya to yar poof friend's car?" The middle-aged man bawled at her aggressively, foolhardily lingered on his tongue.

Whilst a grotesque, disquiet frown curled upon the former nun's damp, perfectly shaped pair of rosy-coloured oral flower petals after swallowing with trouble the liquid of water, troubling her throat.

"Huh? Judy Martin, I thought ya were a special or rather one-of-a-kind woman, one in a million ladies who is humble and pretty attractive with ravishing charisma but you know what? It doesn't matter anymore!" In the meantime, Jude swallowed a solid lump, formed in her throat, unable to rest for a single second due to the perturbing intruder.