Tethered

Consternation

Part four, enjoy folks, and don't forget to let me know what you think of the story.

Cheers

Mac

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Sachiel wants to cry.

The closer he gets the Fia, the more upset she seems to get. Yet the further away he strays from her, the more he hurts. He can't find a happy medium because the moment he steps forward and touches her she starts crying. It's instinct, instinct he has to ignore because she's different. His touch won't make her feel comforted and smile, it does the complete opposite and that scares him.

He's curled onto her window seat, bare arms wrapped around his knees and head resting on top of them. Her mere presence hurts him because he's come to accept the fact that there's nothing he can do to help her. His feathers are falling out and even if he wanted to break the bond and return home now, he can't.

He's come to the conclusion that his passing through her was no accident. With the acceptance that he couldn't help her, he came to realise the tether wasn't just as a guardian, but as a soul mate. Yet, every time he tries to help the other half of his soul, every time he tries to touch her, she breaks. She starts crying, as if she's mourning something and Sachiel can't take it anymore.

He's weak and exhausted. Guardians aren't meant to stay this long, but he can't leave. Not now he's found her, if he leaves her, he'll surely die. He'd lose his soul to her and without a soul, there isn't life. No, he has to stay.

Turning his face to the side, he watches through a half closed eye as Fia quietly taps away at her phone. She's sat in her desk chair, feet propped on her bed, swaying side to side to the tune of a song playing from her laptop. He can't help himself, he finds her stunning. Despite the scars littering her forearms, she's his everything.

A gentle breeze passes through the room as his wings extend before elegantly falling around him in a sort of blanket, Sachiel closes weary eyes and drifts into a spell of unconsciousness.

On the gentle breeze, a single long black feather curves gently through the air, floating gracefully towards the brown haired girl. Her curious green eyes follow its path and without second thought, she reaches out and plucks it from the air. The black contrast against her stark white skin. She brushes the feather between her fingers with a furrowed brow, it's as long as her forearm and softer than anything she's ever felt before. An odd sense of longing washes over her as she stares at it.

From the corner of her eye she sees a black figure curled up in her window. She whips her head around but there's nothing there. She shakes her head and shakily turns back to her phone.

She's surely going mad.