An Angel's Wings.

Ch. 7 12:30 Visit.

The next morning when I woke up, my mom was by my bedside, and I wondered if last night was a dream or if it was real. My mom had dark crimson hair, dyed of course, with slightly tan skin, and hazel eyes. She was always on the thin side, and despite the fact she was 49 she still looked young with only a few wrinkles in her face here and there. "Oh baby," she breathed, hugging me.

She pulled back, wiping away tears. "I'm alright mom," I insisted, she disregarded what I said. "Your friend Angel, he managed to get you to the hospital just in time," she explained. I sat up quickly, ignoring her as she tried to shove me down. "Where is he?" I asked, looking around. "He had to go home honey. Anyway, the doctor said you could leave today, he already gave me the antibiotics to put on your bite." She said, I nodded. After calling the doctor, getting back in my other clothes, we drove home in near silence. Mom always got quiet when she was fretting.

As we drove home, we passed the path that lead to Angel's house, and I stared. My hand rested on my bandaged up forearm. There was no pain.

We reached the house, and after dismissively talking to Mom, I headed to my bedroom. Closing and locking the door, I collapsed onto my bed. I just wanted to sleep. That guy's conversation with me kept repeating in my mind, over and over. Slowly however, I fell into a restless sleep.

When I woke up, it was 12:30.

30 minutes past midnight.

Running my fingers through my hair, the curiosity got to me. The only way to know if the encounter was more than a dream was by inspecting my bite. Rolling up my jacket sleeve, I picked at the edge of the gauze till it relented, the corner upturning. Slowly, wincing more from fear than pain, I unwrapped the gauze. Turning my forearm, there was no bitemark. But there was something else. Twisting it to see it more clearly it was sort of shaped like a shield with weird curls around it. As I went to brush my fingers over it a sharp sting of pain was sent through my arm, I winced from the pain, and inspected it more closely.

Squinting my eyes to see it, I focused so intensely when there was a slight rapping on the window I nearly jumped out of my skin. Looking up, I saw Angel. Yes, he was sitting on my windowsill, looking at me expectantly. Not wanting to leave him there awkwardly, I opened the window. "Yes?" I asked, he shrugged, "Just wanted to see how you were," Somehow something about him was lagging and I had a feeling he wasn't telling me the whole truth. "I'm good, anything else?" I asked, he arched a brow, his expression sort-of smug his lips twisted into a small smirk. "May I come in?" He asked, "Oh sure..." The whole situation was so peculiar even if I didn't want him to come in, I probably would've still let him. Moving out of the way, he slid into my room, and closed the window. Only the moonlight illuminated us.

As he inspected my room, I realized he might see the tattoo and I wasn't ready to talk about it. Also I just felt like I shouldn't tell him. So I quickly, shoved my jacket sleeve down, hoping the movement wouldn't catch his eye. But of course, thanks to my SPECTACULAR luck, it did.

"Something wrong?" He asked, his eyes traveling over to my bed. He saw the gauze unraveled on my nightstand. "Why isn't your arm bandaged?" He asked, his eyes scrutinizing me. I was never a good liar, and honestly I don't know why I was lying to him, or why I felt like I had to, but I did. "When I woke up the bite was hurting, and I was going to put some of the antibiotics the doctor gave me on it, but then you knocked so I got a little distracted." I lied, he shifted slightly, and he didn't look entirely convinced. "Do you want me to bandage it for you? I'm not skittish about gore and stuff it'd probably be easier." He offered. Shoot, he remembered my fear of it, my shoulder muscles stiffened but I retained most composure.

"It's not bleeding right now, it's more swollen than anything, so I got it. Besides I don't want you looking at my gross cuts." I lied, as I stepped past him I could feel his gaze hot on my back. He was definitely not buying what I was trying to sell.

Grabbing the roll of gauze, I excused myself to the bathroom, and closed the bathroom door. When I was alone I let out a sigh, rolling up my sleeve. The tattoo was pure black with light shading on the edges of the curves. "I bet it's because of that guy." I muttered to myself as I put the gauze over my arm. I know I can't hide it with gauze forever, but for now I had an escape.

When I walked back in, Angel was inspecting my wall of drawings. "Hey Twelve," he called as I closed and locked my door. "Yeah?" I asked, walking over. He pointing to a drawing, "Is that me?" He asked, I realized in shock that it, in fact, looked exactly like him except for one tiny detail. the drawing had no mouth. It was also hyper realistic. How did I draw him before I'd seen his face? "No, that was drawn between 9th and 10th grade, to draw you in hyper realism I'd have had to really inspected your face, which I never did." I answered, kneeling down to inspect it more since it was near the bottom of the wall. No doubt, minus the mouth, it looked exactly like him with his hair pushed back. He had a completely straight face, well, once again, minus the mouth. "Why doesn't it have a mouth?" He asked.

Shrugging I stood back up. "I could never get it quite the way I imagined it, so I just didn't put one." He stared, and without thinking, I moved closer to him and pushed his choppy black hair out of his face. In the drawing it was expertly pushed back. My curiosity to see if it was exact got the best of me. Angel stared at me in surprise as I inspected his face, with my hand holding his tidal wave of ink black hair back. He looked so much more vulnerable but equally as beautiful with it pushed back. Before he could say anything, I turned and inspected the drawing. "Aha, see, you have a small scar on your left brow, there's not one in the drawing. So it can't be you." I commented, removing my hand from his head. He still stared at me in surprise, and I think he was slightly flustered, judging by the light shade of pink decorating his cheekbones.

"What?" Was all he mustered, I realized I just violated his space, and shrank back a little. "I wanted to see if the photos were exact, so I moved your hair to see." I explained, slightly flushed. Now we were both flustered. "But the person I see in front of me is more handsome than the one in the picture." I added quietly. The red on his face deepened and my heart hammered in my chest. WHAT THE HELL TWELVE!? WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!? My heart demanded as he bashfully looked at the ground and I stared at the moon through the window.

He awkwardly shifted his body. "I should... go, I just wanted you to know our project was still at my house." He stated, slowly inching to the window. It seemed his face was only getting more and more flushed with a deep red. Also his lips were curled upwards in a tentative smile. "O-okay, I'll see you at school then?" I asked as he fumbled and opened the window.

"Y-yeah," I'd never seen him so shocked and shy as he is now. "Do you want me to walk you out through the front?" I asked so he wouldn't have to awkwardly climb back down the side of my house. He shook his head. "I'm good." He commented climbing out onto the windowsill, I waved and quickly closed and locked the window. Then I shut the curtains.

I did not want to see him awkwardly shambling down the side of the house.

Collapsing onto my bed, bubbly giggles erupted from my lips.

I called Angel cute.

And he acted bashful.

I squirmed under my covers like a happy little slug.