My Angel -septiplier

Chapter 3

I stay with Mark through the day, just sitting and watching the world moving around us. He sits on the , his head leaning against one of my knees, my fingers woven in his hair. It is silent, save for the few words we feel it is necessary to speak. I agree to stay with him for the night. He tells me stories about the realm of angels, the perfect utopia strung high above our little dystopia.

And we sit, at peace. Well... him, anyway. I'm still struggling to work out what he said. It's not possible. He's too perfect, too... well, too angelic, for someone like me. I'm nothing, just a face in a crowd.

"You're not a nobody, you know." I jump at his voice, slicing through the still air in the room. His words are eerily close to my thoughts. "You're... you're impossible to describe."

"You don't have to describe me." I say. "There's nothing to be said anyway."

He turns to me, a deep frown etched on his beautiful lips. "Why do you do that?" he asks. "Do what?"

"Put yourself down like that." He reaches out to me, cupping my cheek in the palm of his hand. I into him, feeling myself grow sadder. "Because I've been told too many times. Maybe you wouldn't understand."

I pull my knees up and tuck them under my chin. "Understand what?" he asks quietly. "Humans are cruel and heartless," I answer. He seems utterly confused. "But... don't you have a heart? It pumps blood?" He taps my chest, and I burst out laughing.

I clutch my stomach, tears running down my face from laughing so hard. He stands above me, confusion apparent in his expression. "What?" he says defensively. "Yes... yes, I have... a heart," I gasp. "Then, why do some humans not have a heart?" I almost start laughing again, but I figure I should probably explain it to him. "Being heartless means being cruel to someone, not thinking or caring about how that person will feel or how their actions will impact their life."

His face clears a bit. "Oh. So, saying something mean to someone... that is being heartless?" I nod. "Calling someone fat or ugly, telling them they cannot do something because they like people of the same gender, saying that they are worthless..." I stare at the ground. "Do people call you those things?" he asks. I nod, tears pricking my eyes, making it hard to breathe.

Escaping my notice, he , and I gasp as his wrap around my stomach. "You are not fat," he says.

He moves one hand to my face, brushing his finger along my jaw as he studies my face. "You are beautiful," he says. Warmth pools in my stomach at his words. "Are we friends? Do you have friends who are women?" he asks. I nod, and he says, "So you have friends of both genders. Why is it so bad to like someone of the same gender?" I chuckle, but he cuts me off. "You are here and alive, yes?" I nod again. "So you are not worthless. You have a purpose here, or at least someone to be with."

I mull it over. "Maybe," I conclude. He sighs. "Why do you not believe me?" he asks. "I have no reason to believe you," I shrug. He his head slowly. "I do not understand. You believe the people who tell you bad things, but you do not listen to me when I try to help you."

"Because they're true," I reply. "Ah, Seán." He sighs, hugging me tightly. "You're so beautiful, so impeccable in every detail. Why can you not see how perfect you are?"

His voice spins the words into music, melodies swirling around me. I lean into him, letting his embrace comfort me.

*sorry about the short chapter hoped you enjoyed*