In a Sanctum built for angels and mages lives a boy of secrets who carries a cracked halo, and a girl with a hidden past who's seeking answers...
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Apollo James, 19 years old, and freshly released of the bonds of an angel is seeking a way to get h...
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I remembered her. I looked at her face and I saw her, but she was not the same Stella I knew when she disappeared. Much of my childhood was spent with Stella coming and going, she was my friend before I knew Olivia's name and she would've talked me into being a better friend to her if she'd been here. I knew Stella, I loved Stella, but this was not my Stella. She traced her hands along the shelves of the books and smiled at the empty case where the goblet should've been. She turned to face me, her hair still damp from the bath she'd taken. I waited in anticipation for her to speak her first words since she'd gotten here. I wanted to see her disappointment in me, I wanted to hear her anguish. Anything to remind me that she was still Stella no matter how damaged, no matter how changed. "You still follow your head over your heart." She smiled, her voice hoarse from crying and her eyes puffy. "I missed that about you." I wanted to hug her but I kept my distance. Scars marked her back, her arms her legs. She traced over the them while the doctors were cataloguing her injuries and attempting to guess the dates she'd gotten them. She looked them in their eyes and told them that she didn't want them touching her and they did so anyway. Of course they apologized but there was no guilt in their bones. They were doing their jobs and they didn't actually care who it hurt. It was ironic and almost made me laugh but the anger it brought Stella forced the laughter back down where it came from. Don't touch her. Is what I learned from that exchange. "What did I miss?" She asked. I cleared my throat, "Olivia doesn't come by anymore." She laughed, "saw that coming."
My eyes widened, "How could you say that?"
"Your parents never liked her. I figured you'd burn the library and they'd find a way to pin it on her." Close enough. I lowered my head, she had been gone so long and still knew everything about me. Was I really that unchanging? Was I really so stagnant that even after a year I had nothing to show for my personal growth or development? I smiled at her, "I'll leave you to it." She turned away from me, engulfed in the wonders of this library I'd been trapped in my whole life.
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