Don't Forget

Tilia

—    Talk to me about heaven, I ask Kenziel.

We are sitting in a cafe where several students like to get together to work. The place tries to give itself the air of an Italian café with the menu containing some typical Italian dishes, the country's flag hanging everywhere and the aged brick walls.

I watch Kenziel furtively as he turns to the window. The more time I spend with him, the more I feel the darkness moving away from me. Arana slowly becomes a distant memory.

It's been a few weeks since he came into my life. I now rent a room with two beds, because he never leaves me and I find it strange that he stays on a chair to observe me. It was a bit useless, because apparently angels don't sleep and Kenziel still watches me from his bed.

He doesn't really speak. I guess conversation isn't a priority in their world. But despite his silence, his presence is comforting. Sometimes he is gentle with me when he notices my sadness. He puts his hand on my shoulder releasing a soothing jolt through my body which instantly relaxes my mind. One of his amazing powers.

Our days are simple. I wake up with Kenziel watching over me, he accompanies me for lunch, I take long walks outside to try to drive away my dark thoughts, I come home late at night, and I drink a few glasses of rum before falling asleep to start the day again tomorrow.

During our short time together, I noticed that he was slowly changing. He is no longer waiting to see if I need his touch to feel better. Now he gives it to me like he really needs it.

—    What is there to say? Kenziel answers me after a moment of silence.

Exhausted from having to dissect the enigmatic answers of the angel, I take my vanilla coffee and decide to drink it outside despite the cold. I warm my cold hands against the hot cup, watching Kenziel, who remains unmoved by the temperature.

I noticed that he feels nothing. Both physically and emotionally. For example, his long gray trench coat is open over his slightly unbuttoned shirt even though we are in the middle of winter.

I stop him for a moment to ask him to hold my cup while I try to fasten the few buttons of his shirt and his coat. Surprised, he questions my intrusive gesture. So I explain to him that people will find it odd that he doesn't dress for the weather. Seeing his eyes rest on my hands for a long moment, I quickly change the subject.

—    So will you tell me about your angelic world? I ask as we walk towards the hotel.

—    There is no room for feelings or thoughts. We just have to obey orders, he says as if to himself.

These words send shivers down my spine. I expected a paradise filled with flowers and sunshine. Where the birds sing nonstop, and where life is good, but that's far from reality. I feel bad for Kenziel and all the other angels who can't feel what humans feel.

—    Forget everything I just told you, Tilia, Kenziel tells me, feeling my body tense up.

I look at his beautiful blue eyes and I read fear in them... What could frighten an angel so?

—    Wouldn't you like to feel what we humans feel? I ask him.

He looks at me blankly.

—    Love, joy, laughter and even less pleasant feelings, I continue.

—    What's the point? I'm just a soldier, he replies mechanically.

I touch his arm to stop our walk and face him:

—    What. Do. You. Want?

He closes his eyes for a moment to think about my question. I smile seeing his sincere effort.