And I don’t know what frustrates me more—him or the fact that he is actually right.
As of yesterday, I’m no more than a simple angel, doomed to work in the library for the rest of my mundane existence.
Ten
Kai
Days tend to meld together when you’re doing something you don’t particularly care for. Cleo and I have sorted through all the artifacts, and it’s only been a few days since we started.
She’s come up with a classification system based on chronological order. If you flip an artifact upside down, you’ll see a symbol indicating the century it was created—she taught me that. Consequently, we’ve been focusing on batching the artifacts together in different groups, sorted by century. We’ve even assessed artifacts dating back to the first century. I can’t wait to rub this project in Jasper’s face after we meet again one day.
Friday arrives quicker than expected. Thankfully. I sigh in relief as I enter my haven and eagerly change out of my jeans and sweater into black pants and a collared short-sleeved black button-down shirt. I’m giving the monochromefit a whirl. Sure, it’s been years since I’ve been to a party, but I remember the ins and outs of partying like it was yesterday. I want to appear approachable—just nottooapproachable. Hence, the black ensemble.
The sun went down hours ago, yet I still can’t stop thinking about work. More particularly, my coworker.
Watching her take in the sunset at the library earlier this week caught me off guard.
She likes to act like she doesn’t care, but the look in her eyes as she got lost in that golden sheen held something I couldn’t decipher. Something more potent than sadness, stronger than frustration.
In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to exercise soulsight to see if I could discern the darkest corners of her mind and help her… But I resisted.
I’d prefer to get to know her the good old-fashioned way.
I wander over to my mirror, checking myself out. I push my fingers through my hair and splash some water on my face. Tonight’s going to belit, as my old students would say. I exit my haven and make my way over to the atrium in the marketplace downtown, to the left of our living quarters.
Firefly-lit lanterns light the path from the square to the marketplace, composed of several shops constructed around the atrium in a rectangular manner. The atrium is an open courtyard filled with artsy, angelic statues, four-tiered garden-style fountains, and a variety of flowers, all set against a striking view of the night sky. From this realm, the sky isn’t only black—it’s a mixture of black, blue, pink, and purple. During daylight hours, the atrium is a sight to behold, but it’s otherworldly at night—fitting, considering this realm is far from worldly.
Immediately upon entering the courtyard, I’m offered a foggy substance in a tall champagne flute by an angel with golden-blonde hair and bright yellow wings. “Drinking tonight?”
“Is that even a question?” I throw her an easy smile, glancing at the mysterious drink in her hands. “What is it?”
“Alcomist. Instead of drinking it like orthodox alcohol on the land below, you can simply breathe it in. A pleasant buzz is guaranteed after only one glass.”
“Say no more.” I grasp the glass and take a deep whiff, inhaling it like air. Refreshing. Cleo was right. It has a crisp taste to it—like how I’d imagine candied icicles would taste.
“Delicious, right?” the angel asks, beaming—evidently a bit tipsy herself.
“Right.” I grin politely, then wander away from the entrance, venturing deeper into the party and scanning the crowd of dancing angels. The music is ethereal—it sounds indie. Props to the live band of angels. I’m sure Iris or Jasper would know this type of music well.
Angels all around me seem to lose themselves to the music, their bodies flowing freely in line with the melodic notes. I’ll admit, I’m surprised by the closeness the angels are all exhibiting—during the day, most of these angels maintain chipper countenances and relatively professional demeanors. At night, a different side of them seems to unmask itself.
As my eyes search the crowd, they drift over to the stone seating placed throughout the atrium and catch someone I wasn’t expecting to see. Before I can think better of it, I breathe in more alcomist and stride toward the seating area, landing directly in front of my target.
“Can I help you?” Stephen asks, his tone drenched in dismissiveness. I tick my jaw. His arm remains wrapped around ablue-eyed angel with long straight red hair. “I’m in the middle of something.”
My eyes drift back to the redheaded angel, and I plaster a charming smile on my face. “Mind giving us a moment to catch up, red?”
She twists her hair around her finger, eyeing me and smiling softly. She rises, but before walking away, she whispers in my ear, “Come find me later.”
I gulp in response.
I plop down on the stony seat to his left—thank gosh it has cushions—entering his personal space with zero regard. Stephen clenches his jaw, pinning me with a glare. “What doyouwant?”
“Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?” His glare turns into a cocky smolder.
“Don’t bullshit me. Whythe fuckdid you do it?” My irritation is growing stronger by the minute. This isn’t normal for me. I don’t lose my cool.
