Graceful Wings

Graceful Wings (2)

“Wait... You're messing with me. I'm the chosen one?” I was confused.

“You must be her. Spreading your wings at an early age, raised by a human, abandoned by your parents, your necklace and your wings have golden undertone... Everything in you says you're her,” he trailed off.

“So what does that mean to me?” I questioned, “I mean, do I have some kind of mission to complete or something?”

“Yes and no,” he said.

“What do you mean by 'yes and no'?”

“The legend says that the chosen one is going to end the hatred between two dynasties,” he explained.

“How am I supposed to do it?” I asked.

“I don't know.”

“Then who the fuck knows, huh?” I was pissed.

He got up, put his hands on my shoulders and squatted in front of me,” Calm down, Myla.”

“Tell me how can I calm down?” I demanded, pushing his hands off of my shoulders, “Firstly I study hard at school, then I go to work. While I'm going home from work, some dude with wings decides to chase me. After that he lets go of me when we're flying. Then I grow fucking wings, which disappear in a while. And then I'm told that I'm a fallen angel and the chosen one, who has to end some kind of fucking hatred. Could you calm down, huh?”

“I guess I could, but-”

“You only guess you could,” I cut him off, “I bet you'd be more furious.”

“I-I... You're right. I'd be furious. I mean, if I had that long day, I'd be beyond furious.”

“Oh shit,” I swore.

“What?” he asked.

“What's the time?” I asked.

“It's 2.34 am,” he told me after looking at his clock, which was right behind me.

“Crap,” I swore again, “I've got to go to school tomorrow.”

“Let me take you home,” he proposed.

“OK,” I agreed.

I got up from the sofa and he wrapped his arms around me, so I was facing him. While we flew out the window, I wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his torso.

“You know what's interesting?” he suddenly asked, while we were flying.

“No,” I answered.

“You haven't been scared not even once.”

“How did you know?” I questioned.

“I do hear your thoughts, don't I? And your thoughts haven't shown fear.”

“Oh.”

I rested my cheek on Damien's shoulder. My subconsciousness made me do it. My nose filled with his scent.

“Damn, he smells good,” I thought.

“Thanks for the compliment,” he chuckled.

“Wait... You heard that?!” I asked, feeling the heat raising to my cheeks.

“Mind-reader? Remember?” he asked and I could feel my blush deepening, ”Aww, you're blushing!”

“Am not.”

“You are!”

“I am not blushing!

“Yes you are. Why else would my shoulder be so warm?” he asked.