Ebony Wings

11

~Ali~

I leave the others in the dorm room ruminating through the dusty tomes, while I rush off to attend my small groups session in the early afternoon, gingerly letting myself into the room five minutes after the start time following a promising lead that turned out to be nothing more than the name of another passed away Elder. I remain distracted through the entire hour session and excuse myself early, heading back as quickly as I can, eager to be doing something practically productive.

Jaz is learning over Jack's shoulder, discussing a paragraph of text together before dismissing it and turning the page with a dry, crunching sound as I silently let myself back in. I can feel the heat in my cheeks sting my skin as I close myself into the warm room, red-faced from taking the stairs two at a time when the elevator wound its way through the floors too slowly for my patience to tolerate. I fling my bag into the cupboard and quickly shut the door on it before it can tumble back out. I shed my coat over the couch and move towards the book sitting closed several pages further in than when I had been here an hour previously. And then the book is snatched beneath my grasp, disappearing in a blur from the mattress as I reach for it.

Rolling my eyes, I give Ethan my best glare as he waves the text above my head, teasing me with its vitreous pages. His guilty smile is daringly obnoxious yet oddly infectious and I find myself laughing irritatedly as I swing my arms in the air, grappling for the book, careful not to knock it out of his hold.

"Reckon I could have that back sometime, Ethan? You see, I sort of need it." My light sarcasm makes his smile blossom across his face, his pointed cheekbones like arrows diverting all attention to his faceted eyes. My heart flops weakly in my chest like a wet sponge, ever soaking up more of his beauty into my collection of secret memories.

"Hmm..." He purses his lips as he rubs his gently stubbled chin thoughtfully, propping the book off to the side. "Well, I could never just give you the book back, but I suppose I would be willing to consider a trade." His aloof tone brings a brief giggle from me, which in turns elicits a childlike joy from his features.

"A trade?" I muse. "And what could an angel possibly want from a mortal?"

"That entirely depends on what the mortal has to offer."

"Maybe some crucial life lessons on social etiquette!" I bark and lunge again, hoping that our moment of conversation was enough to distract him momentarily. He shifts the position of the book to his other hand and I am left groping the air once again.

"Why, I am wounded by your words!" The candescence in his eyes reminds me of lightly whisked clouds, gently floating through the silver forks of his irises. The gravity of his smile has my heart helplessly drawn towards him, like he were the burning sun and I a cold and distant planet, inexplicably falling into the chasm of his pull. The manner of the feeling has my hand fluttering to my chest, landing over my heart as if caging it in place, afraid to set it free. I imagine the sound my heart would make as it rattles against its constraints.

Slowly, like the approach of a faraway storm, the clouds in his eyes condense and shadow, swirling around the mountain summit of his pupils. His mouth opens as if he is going to say something but Jaz's whining has the skies of his eyes clearing.

"Nap-time! I want - no! I need sleep." And just like that the book is back in my grasp, cold and heavy as Ethan smiles lightly, dismissively, and walks back to his own reading. My insatiable desire to dissect the book further dissipates as the mattress springs sing under Jaz's weight, the iron frame squeaking as she punches air into her flattened pillow. I slip the closed book onto my bedside table and clamber into my own bed fully clothed, suddenly too tired to concentrate.