No Angels

.chapter thirteen.

In the morning, things seemed normal.

Ravi didn't mention the day before, and I didn't give him time to remember.

We spent the first half of the day goofing off - I tried to teach Ravi how to bake a pie, and Ravi thought me how to play chess.

Everything seemed back to normal, the wounds of last afternoon already forgotten.

But, no.

There was something different, but it wasn't in Ravi.

It was in me.

Every single beautiful detail I'd committed to memory seemed to leap out at me - everything, from the way laugh lines appeared around his mouth whenever he smiled, to the way his eyes crinkled in the corners whenever he laughed, to the way his hands moved whenever he was animatedly telling me a story - everything seemed to glow.

Everything about him - grace and beauty - seemed heightened, and it didn't take me long to figure out why.

I knew I couldn't tell him. It would be painful, extremely so, if he were to find out.

After all, I was pretty sure he didn't think of me in that light.

I was content just observing him from my corner.

Content with watching his light burn bright from where I was seated.

It didn't bother me that he would never know - it bothered me that I was putting so much time and effort on someone who wasn't even permanent.

I don't know.

Love makes you stupid.

* * *

I was making coffee when I felt the cold, light butterfly touch on the back of my neck.

"How's your hand feeling?"

I stiffened.

It was the first direct question Ravi had asked me in relation to yesterday's events.

I'd managed to bandage my hand up pretty well on my own, and had worn an extra long and ratty sweater just so I could cover the bandages with the sleeve.

"It's fine," I said.

Ravi, like Kaitlyn, could read through my lies too well.

"Let me see."

I didn't have to be told twice - not after what happened yesterday.

I held my hand out, and Ravi gingerly took it in between his.

He unwrapped the bandages, and I refrained from telling him that it'd taken me nearly two hours and three packets of bandages to get the wrapping right.

My flesh was still pink and swollen, but it wasn't as sore as it was before.

Ravi's cold hands felt good against the fevered skin, and I sighed in content as he gently probed the burnt area.

After a minute, the dull throbbing faded.

"All better," Ravi said, sounding pleased.

I stared at my perfectly normal, non-burnt hand.

Somehow, things like that didn't shock me any longer.

So I just thanked him, offered him a coffee, and we spent the rest of the morning watching reruns of Desperate Housewives.

The trouble only came later.

* * *

To be fair, I had promised Kaitlyn that I would call her back.