The Angel

9 Part 2

This chapter is for DaaeDestler; thank you, my dear, for wanting an update. I hope it lives up to your expectations.

carlysullivan9 12/9/22

When I finally awake, I notice that I'm still seated in Erik's car which is currently traveling down the interstate - going at a pretty impressive speed, might I add.

I try to keep still and not alert Erik that I'm awake, for all I know, one sudden movement from me will send us plummeting through to the other side of the highway. As my breathing evens out, and I begin to let my eyes wonder, I see that I am in an expensive Rolls-Royce with sleek black interior and sliver trim. I know without a doubt in my mind that this car is worth more than I'll ever make in my entire life. Probably the tires alone cost more than my mortgage.

I take my time and let my eyes travel to Erik sitting in the driver's seat, hands on ten and two on the steering wheel, eyes looking ahead, and his back straight against his seat - the perfect posture; any driving instructor would be proud.

As my eyes travel from Erik's hands on the wheel, to his arms incased in a dark maroon suit jacket, to his stark white button-down which is buttoned all the way up to his neck (with a matching marron tie), to finally up to his face. This is the first time that I truly get a good look of his face, or at least, a good look of part of his face. His chin is sharp, and the skin is pulled taunt across the mandible bone. It's easy to say that if Erik looked down, he wouldn't have a second chin threatening to make an appearance. Not a trace of fat anywhere.

From his pale colored chin, my eyes travel to his lips. While his bottom lip looks thin and almost pale enough to match the color of his chin, it is his upper lip that holds my attention. Have you ever fallen flat on your face before? And then, the next morning when you wake up and look in the mirror your face is all swollen? Well, that's what looks like what happened to Erik's upper lip.

It's not swollen-swollen, to the point that it looks like it's going to burst or anything - I know that sounds gross, sorry - but you can tell a definite difference between his upper and lower lip. The color of his top lip almost matches the color of his suit jacket, and the muscles within his cheeks, that one would use to scrunch up their nose, move constantly - perhaps on their own accord - never pausing for a second, making the small area above his lips twitch excessively.

As I finally bring my eyes upward from his lips, I'm met with nothing. Well, it is something, but it's not him. Instead of continuing to see his pale skin, I see an off-white mask upon the remaining part of his entire face. From his nostrils to his hairline - a mask covers his skin. I wonder what happened to the black one he wore when we first met?  This mask almost looks like a second skin on him, it's pressed tightly against his cheeks and forehead. I'm not sure if it somehow is glued on to his face or if the ties of the mask are lost within his dark hair which is pulled back in a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. If his hair wasn't pulled back, I would wager that the tips of his hair would graze his shoulders.

Just as I am about to continue my exploration of my driver's face, and move my eyes from his hair to his eyes, a shrill high-pitch noise fills the space around us and I immediately give a jump in my seat and begin searching for the intrusive sound.

The exact moment I move, Erik's eyes are upon me from the road. Umm, sir, I would very must like it if you kept your eyes on the road. I quite like my life. "It's alright, Angel. It's alright." Erik murmurs to quickly as he reaches into his jacket pocket, "Blast that Persian for waking the Angel." He quickly pulls out his phone and answers the call, "What do you want, Khan? Do you know that you've awoken my Angel? She was resting so very peacefully until you called."