The warm breeze of late March blew Harpers hair across her face. As much as the feeling annoyed her, she did not reach up and brush it aside. If anything, she relished the feeling, because it was coupled with a reminder that spring was on its way.
Not that it ever really got cold in Los Angeles. But having lived here all her life, she still felt the seasons change in their own unique way. The increased rain, the cooler temperatures. Today had been the first day in almost a week that the sun remained in the sky, barely a cloud in sight without the possibility of some kind of precipitation.
And because of this, Harper and Grace took the opportunity to enjoy the weather. The compound was quiet, as most individuals were either in school or work, leaving the streets almost barren. Both girls had finished high school, taking a year to consider their futures. This was something many young Fallen seemed to do; time between the monotony of high school, and the reality of a true human life. To go to college, or hold on to the belief that you would be absolved, and return home.
Harper knew she would attend university. What else would she do? She held no misconceptions that she would be returned to an Angel. That her human life here would end, and the fantasy life of purity would begin. She had never believed it, and so, continued to plan her mortal life.
Grace still held on to the hope, maybe foolishly, and she wouldn't have to worry about such matters. That the Fallen would be redeemed, and they would return to Heaven. She went through the motions of looking at colleges, of talking of options with Harper, all the while holding her tongue on her dream of it never being necessary.
But it was days such as this, with the quiet streets and the warm sun, that both girls were able to find a common ground. A balance between the reality they lived, with a touch of heaven as the scents and sounds surrounded them completely.
This was as close to purity as Harper felt they would ever come.
"How have things been around your place?" Grace asked, looking up to the sun from behind her sunglasses. The light t-shirt and jeans she wore made her look even younger than she naturally did, when matched with her short blonde hair and youthful face.
Harper shrugged. "As you would assume. Dad has been moody and locked away in his office. Mom has been running around like a damn chicken with her head cut off, trying to field everything for the council, run the community, and now, put together some 'human experiences' for the Angels." Harper snorted, as if the idea was hysterical. "I mean, it's just so stupid."
Grace looked down to the pavement, matching Harpers posture as the two turned the next corner.
"Well, you figure, its kind of your Dads head on the chopping block if this goes bad. So of course your Mom is going to be trying to run damage control with all the smaller things he usually dealt with, since all his attention is now on the newcomers."
Harper shrugged, letting the topic fall away.
The two continued in the direction of their homes, having meandered the streets for almost an hour. It was something they did frequently, a way to get away from the stuffiness of their homes, and the lectures of the elders.
"Have you seen them?" Grace asked.
"Who?"
"The Angels?"
Harper shook her head. "Not since the Gathering." With a moments silent thought, she huffed. "They seemed so uptight. So prim and proper, like they would never even consider being a part of this world."
Grace snickered. "Well, what would you expect?"
"I don't know," Harper admitted. "Michael was so confrontational. He masked it with his perfect manners, but the whole time I felt like he was mocking me."
"I know," Grace grinned, glancing at Harper from the corner of her eye. "You've mentioned that. Several times."
"Then I must mean it," Harper snapped, as the girls approached the edge of the gardens.
The main compound gardens were a large expanse of green lawns, tall trees, and immaculate flowerbeds that many of the upper council members homes backed on to. Both Harper and Graces homes were of these, and both had grown up playing in the trees, and lying in the grass at night staring up at the stars. It was a quiet, peaceful place, the fragrance of the flowers overwhelming to the senses.
Choosing a narrow path, the two continued their walk, paying little attention to their direction. Approaching the fountains, a collection of marble structures at the far end of the gardens, voices gained their attention.
Looking up, Harper paused, Grace a step behind her.
Ahead stood several figures, all of whom were immediately recognizable.
The first that Harper immediately noticed was Noah. She would know his profile anywhere. Dressed in casual clothes of dark jeans and a white shirt, he looked so completely mortal it would be easy for her to forget their circumstances, and instead believe that they were just two teenagers meeting in a park.
With him was the dominant figure of his father. An upper council member of the messengers, he was in deep conversation with two other men. He seemed intent, gesturing frequently, while all others involved stood passively.
The other two, of course, were the Angels. Miles, and Michael. It should not come as a surprise that members of both sides would seek them out, whether to plead their cases, or ask for their ear. With the emphatic nature of Noah's father's gestures, Harper felt slightly uneasy.
"Mr Evean looks rather intense, doesn't he?" Grace snickered, as she took Harpers arm, the two girls merging into the neighboring tree line. From their hiding place, they were able to observe the encounter unseen.
Looking Noah over, Harper felt a grin come to her face. She knew allowing her feelings to still simmer under the surface was foolish. She knew Grace was right, and that they could never be. But that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the fantasy, hiding within the trees.
As if on their own accord, her eyes drifted to Michael, standing opposite Noah. The two were so completely different, despite the fact that they were probably more similar than many she knew. Both were formal, fair and lean, with gentle demeanors and soft voices.
But Michael, she noticed, struck a much more imposing figure, without ever intending to. He stood a head above his companions, his blue eyes so clear Harper could almost see their hue from this distance. The light breeze ruffled his brown hair, making him appear almost entirely human. When coupled with the clothing he wore, of khaki trousers and a fitted white t-shirt, she would have sworn him mortal.
And completely stunning.
The clothing he had worn on their first meeting did not do him justice. He was broad, fit and toned, the muscles in his arms defined. As his hands remained at his back, the light fabric of his shirt pulled across his abdomen, showing the dips and curves of his torso.
Unable to look away, Harper gazed at him. He looked so human, and yet, her mind kept picturing him as he would be in Heaven. With large, expansive wings from his back, making him seem even larger.
Biting down on her lip, Harper felt a tension in her chest.
Looking at him this way was even more foolish than her thoughts of Noah Evean. He was an Angel. Pure, and guided. To look at him with any form of attraction seemed almost blasphemous, even if it was almost impossible not to appreciate him physically.
But Harper couldn't deny the fact she was attracted to him. Physically, at least. In interactions, he was overly formal, condescending, and left you feeling as though he spent the entire time judging you, and found you unworthy. Despite his manners and poise, he was so obviously not of this world. Harper did not even know how to talk to him without argument and tension.
Not that it mattered. It had been made clear that she stay away from the Angels whenever possible. She knew, without regret, that she was one of those most in need of redirection. She knew this even before her mother had come to her several days after the Gathering, telling her that she had been identified as straying. Not that she didn't already know this. Nor did she care.
She made the required promises. To make every effort to be good, to be perfect and repentant, and project everything that the Angels would want to see. She couldn't care less if she was ever granted return to Heaven. In many ways, she didn't even care it for her parents, both of whom were far from pure themselves.
She agreed, only for the sake of Grace. Even without admitting it, she knew her cousin longed for the reality, rather than the stories. She dreamed of redemption, to live the life they were denied, and that they never knew. Grace, while not perfect, deserved all the things that Harper did not care for herself.
As her eyes appraised Michael again, she looked up and startled to find his gaze now on her. His head was turned in their direction, and despite their shelter in the trees, it felt as though they were out in plain view. Her breath caught in her throat at being discovered, and she waited to be outted.
Michael said nothing to call attention to their place, however. He remained quiet, his eyes burning into hers with such an intensity, again she felt as she had when he had appraised her at the Gathering. It left a flutter in her stomach and a flush to her face, as she reached down and took Graces hand.
"Come on," she said quickly, moving out from the trees and in the opposite direction of the small group they had been observing. "Let's go."
As she ushered Grace home, Harper resisted the urge to look back and see if Michael again was watching her retreat.