She dropps her pen right here and there. Her eyes widen, her mouth opens. She gasps.
Before her, lying unconscious on the cold wooden floor of the dining room, a beautiful young man.
All she's ever dreamt of. A face delicate as that of an angel, a build not too huge nor too skinny, hair the color of a burning sun, flowing as the ocean waves during a raging storm. The boy's eyes are closed yet.
She can't see all of him from her chair on the opposite side of the table, so she stands up, blushing at the sight of the ephebe's genital organ, which lays calmly asleep as does the rest of his body.
He breathes rythmically, unchallenged by the cold, plunged deep in profound sleep. And yet Ania can't help but feel her heart beating faster with every second that seems to pass, and she struggled to keep her composure.
On the verge of passing out due to the unexpected course that events have taken just now, the young woman kneels before the angel's resting body, and instinctively, mostly unaware of what she's even doing or what her goals truly are, she presses the palm of her delicate white hand on the beautiful boy's cheek.
The second she does that, the seraph awakens from his slumber, and in the midst of opening his eyes, gets a shouting noise for a welcome as Ms Akensen, horrified as she is awed by the revelation of the color of the man's pupils, darts away from him, taking refuge in one of the room's corners.
There he is. Splendour incarnate, at least in the young woman's eyes. Standing up now, with confidence, he doesn't utter a word nor does he take a step towards Ania. He only looks at her for a time, his eyes full of compassion.
After a time, and since the other end of the conversational thread that was Ms Akensen doesn't seem too repsonsive, (she is sitting in her corner of the room as a scared puppy, hiding her face between her arms), the newcomer takes some steps towards the stairs and goes up to the house's second floor.
Ania sighs when he's left and allows herself to breathe. Her emotions now back in check, she wonders what the outsider boy can have gone upstairs for.
Should I go see what he's up to ? - thinks the young lady. Maybe he's mischievous... Maybe he's in my room or my father's, stealing money or stealing books...
Before she can make up her mind about wether or not to try mustering up the courage to confront the stranger directly, the angel boy comes back down to the dining room, only this time, he's clothed from head to toes.
He's borrowed garments from Ania's father it seems, as the clothes are too dark and large to have ever belonged to her. And while she's thinking about that, she notices that it's also the case for the beautiful stranger : Dressed in this manner, he 'sure has a style', thinks Akensen, but it shows that he's done with what he's found on the go, as he looks minuscule, wrapped in her father's huge garments.
The young man waves a friendly hand at her, an invisible one at that, hidden inside the sleeve of a pullover way too large for him.
She laughs.
He smiles.
The second after that, he's wrapped his arms around her, and the one after that, he's kissing her. Her heart melts and her mind goes out the window with it too. It does feel really good. As if she's been waiting for that moment her whole life.
He pulls back a bit, unchaining his lips from hers. His mouth tastes as orange blossom. She looks into his eyes, those dark green, magical eyes. And then she's the one gripping his face with force and pressing her body against his, relishing in the feeling of his tongue smashing against hers.
He then gets up again, grabbing her arm to encourage her to do the same.
One second afterwards, they're gone outside.
He laughs and smiles for her. She's known him for less than twenty minutes, yet she perfectly realizes that her heart's his already. She'd go to the ends of the world for a boy as beautiful as this one. Or as beautiful as this one appeared at least.
He leading the way, the newly formed couple traverses the snow-capped plains around the house.
He leads her to the shore.
As much as she feels - no, as much ad she knows - she loves him, the sight she beholds when arriving at the cold beach where she reckons her father regularly hunts beasts from the dpeths of the ocean sends a shiver running down her delicate spine.
Before her very eyes, the corpse of the great god. The lord which fell from the heavens that she's heard so much about from her father yet had always had only an imaginary image of inside her head. Here it is. In all of its rotten glory. A carcass the size of a cruiseship (she knows how big these boats are, has learned the information in some book or another back home). And now that she thinks about it, she can't see home no more. She'd never thought she'd think that one day, but she misses her tiny wooden house now. It's lights, exuding their warm light glowing orange, her comfy little room up on the second floor.
And then she realizes.
Where she's standing. Thinly covered by nothing but a pink silk dress, alone with that mysterious boy that has appeared out of nowhere and led her there, to this usually grim shore of washed-up ambiance during the day, rendered creepingly somber by the approaching night.
And now that the thought has passed her head, where is the boy ? Oh... He's standing before the deceased colossus, a few dozen meters in front of her.
She lets out a cough, then looks at her frail hands. They're getting violet. Moving her fingers hurts already.
Please ! Let us get back home ! - she shouts at the seraph she brought to life. But the wind is loud and violent. A gust of it comes standing in the way of her words, and her message end sup lost in the aether.
She doesn't know the way home. She's never been there after all.
Bad luck, truly. If her father had been present, she thinks, he would've led her to safety in the blink of an eye. But he's gone to the city today.
As such, her back against an invisible wall, with no other option, she advances towards the great carcass before her eyes, towards the pretty boy.
Only... He' not so pretty anymore.
His teeth have morphed into dagger. His smile's getting wicked.
