Chai

Chapter 8

I spent an eternity under those blankets and coats, until...

"I said young man, put that bottle on the ground." A loud crash echoed through the house. A battle cry slammed into my ears as the door slammed. I snuggled closer to the ground and wrapped my wings around myself. The closet door creaked and rolled on its track. My mouth ran dry, and I covered my head. A little old lady crooned, "I think we have the wrong closet." Her voice was like an old rafter, high and rickety.

Another old lady, whose voice was much lower, declared, "Charol, we have one closet big enough to hide an antelope girl in."

The first old lady snapped, slamming the closet door, "Darn it, Ann, it wasn't an antelope girl! It was a porcupine boy, wasn't it Gizmo?" Gizmos' footsteps approach, but I stay hidden under the blankets. The closet creaked open carefully.

He whispered, his voice a balm for my frayed nerves, "Chai, you can come out now. Beau is gone." I sat up, shrugging off the blankets and coats. Gizmo dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around me. "Don't try to be a hero like that, Chai. I could've lost you. I can't... don't ever do that again." He snuggled into my shoulder and takes a deep breath. His arms tightened like a shield. I slowly wrapped my wings and arms around him, squeezing him as he begins to softly cry. I glanced up as the door creaked. A pair of women, with eyes black as coal and wings like dusk, stood before me. They could've been twins, I swear.

The first woman, who had a silver chain about her neck, croaked, "An owl girl, Gizmo?" Gizmo wrapped his arms around my shoulder. A small snarl lifted his lip. His piercings clicked together as his ears flicked back. The women growled, eyes narrowing in sync, "They're bad luck. Get rid of it." They turned and walked out, wings like charcoal capes behind them. The house door slam behind them. I swear I heard two separate doors slam, but Gizmo says they only had one door on the house.

Anyways, Gizmo turned to me, his face creased with a soft frown, "Sorry about her Charol, she's a bit of a loon." I nodded, but before I could ask about Ann, he tugged me into a tight hug. He rested his jaw on my shoulder and drew a deep breath. "I'm so sorry you experienced that, Chai... he was supposed to be in jail, but I guess he escaped..." I nodded as I slowly wrapped my wings and arms around him. He hugged me tighter. My heart raced as I closed my eyes. When did I last...?

...

...

Warm lips pressed against my forehead.

The world lurched on its axis.

My heart stilled.

Breath fanned down across my eyelids and cheeks as we stood as statues in the hallway.

As quickly as it happened, it ended. He pulled away both slowly and suddenly. His face was the colour of a delicate rose, and his hands were snow-white and shaking.

In a moment of either sheer stupidity or radiant brilliance, I grabbed his shaking hands with my own. He froze. His eyes widened and the delicate rose turned to a raging fire. Though I no longer consider such a feeling odd, an odd feeling swept through me. It was warm and soft, but also unsettling and cruel, as if fate couldn't decide if it was for or against this new development.

In the end, I hope it does eventually decide, as I'm still unsure of the verdict.

*

The rain rolled down the windows as we sat upon the floor, surrounded by movies. Gizmo sighed, glancing at me with soft dismay, "You're impossible."

I nodded, not comprehending a word, "Yes, but what about this movie?" I plucked up a drab movie case. It smelt of must and age, and the case nearly crumbled in my hands. I turned to look at Gizmo, whose eyes were clouded with tears. He smiled softly, and with the delicacy of a feather, he took the case from me.

His voice sunk with the weight of grief as he whispered, tail tucking around his legs, "My mothers' favorite Old-World movie, 'The Robins' Hood.' It's about an outlaw who gives to the less fortunate. She said she found it in the ruins of a building when she fled during the war as a child. She watched it so often she had to get the disk resurfaced." He ended with a chuckle and rose to his feet. His tail hung low as he wandered to the displayer. It was as if he was in a waking-nightmare: his shoulders crumpled in as he walked, and his spine bowed under the weight of his pain.

I chirped, wanting to lighten his invisible burden, "Is there anything I can do to help?" His ears rose slightly, twitching to acknowledge my voice. He loaded the disk and moved to the overstuffed couch.

He opened his arms, which shook almost as much as his voice, and asked, "How do you feel about cuddling?"

I hesitated, realization dawning, "Isn't that your girlfriends' job?" I assumed, like an ass, that a kind, handsome man would not stay single long. This assumption made him smile, ever so slightly.

"Well, the position is open..." My jaw dropped. He stayed, arms open, for only a moment longer. I snuggled into his arms, eyes widening as he curled his arms around me like a teddy bear.

I cheekily turned to him, in an attempt to calm my racing heart, "Consider the position filled." He smiled and pressed play on the remote.