Then the munchies kicked in. I refilled our Kool-Aids and tore open the bag of Cheetos. You looked at them suspiciously and demanded to know what they were made of, so I read aloud the ingredients. You stopped me onmonosodium glutamateand asked me what that was.
“Hell if I know.”
You glanced inside the bag and cautiously sniffed.
“These are very orange,” you said with a scowl. “Unnaturally so.”
“That’s the Yellow #6,” I explained. “Shrinks your balls.”
Your eyebrows shot up in alarm. “Why would you ingest a substance that affects the size of your genitals?”
I laughed. You took everything so seriously. “It’s cheesy goodness, Henri. You’ve got to try it before you knock it. Besides, that’s in everything.”
You put one Cheeto experimentally in your mouth, chewed and swallowed, then inspected your fingers.
“Lick it off. Like this.” I grabbed your finger and licked. You froze and stared at me like I’d just forced my tongue down your throat.
“Sorry.” I handed you the bag.
You cleared your throat and said all properly, “I do not wish to have the cheesy residue on my fingers. Will you feed me?”
“Um… yeah. Okay.” My neck was hot. I thought it was just me feeling it, but maybe you were too?
I ended up leaning with my back against your chest, feeding you Cheetos in between taking just as many for myself. We finished the bag and I licked the cheesy residue from my fingertips. You played with my hair, tugging lightly on my curls so they would bounce. You actually said the words, “boing, boing” while doing it. It was so strange, but I loved it.
“This reminds me of something,” you said.
“That’s pretty vague, Henri.”
“Intentionally so.”
I couldn’t see your face, but you sounded happy. I got really sleepy then, so much that I could barely keep my eyes open. I didn’t want to pass out because I knew when I woke up, you’d be gone, and I’d wonder if I’d dreamed the whole thing. I must have said something like that out loud because you told me to look under my pillow. I said you’d been promoted from guardian angel to tooth fairy and you chuckled. Then I fell asleep to the deep rumble of your chest like a muscle car’s purring engine.
I woke up hours later in my bed, alone. I reached under my pillow and found the grisly token you’d left behind, my reminder you were real.
Hug life.
7
Henri
Awareness crept up on me like a thin pour of wine, deceptively innocuous until my cup overflowed.
You were draped across my lap, my fingers woven through your thick, luscious hair, when the feeling overcame me. I’d experienced this with only one other before. It wasn’t lust, though there was an ache of it, and it wasn’t exactly love either—that would come later. It was more likekinship. We’d settled so comfortably into one another’s company; it was as if I’d known you for lifetimes.
Was that even possible? No, I had a long memory, and your soul was not one I’d soon forget.
I panicked, quite honestly, and told you tosleep, sleep, sleep. I lifted you onto your bed and lay beside you for a few minutes while the shroud of slumber overcame you. Your limbs relaxed in my arms as your head lay slack, your cheek a warm pillow of flesh against my chest. I inhaled the scent of your hair while my human heart beat rapidly and a cold, clammy sweat broke out all over my borrowed body.
This was a dangerous game I was playing. If Azrael knew I’d bonded with a human, I’d be transferred out of this territory or stripped of my duties altogether. And if my mother found out about you, she’duseyou to persuade me to her side. I didn’t enjoy tormenting humans or being used as leverage in the gods’ power struggles. I much preferred acting in Azrael’s service as a reaper.
But your warm body against mine was so soft and pliant. The way your fingers curled against the fabric of my shirt made me never want to leave your side. I stared at the soft shadows of your long eyelashes across your cheeks and gently stroked your skin… such a lovely, smooth texture. I pressed one finger against the vein in your neck. The steady, provocative throb of your pulse called to me like an ancient song. So fragile. Soalive.
For the first time in centuries, I contemplated what it might be like to have a container for my spirit and not always feel like a thief in a borrowed vessel. To dive into the mess and chaos that came with being human if it meant being closer to you.
To have a body of my own.
One of thethings I loved about Miami, particularly at that time, was its vibrancy—the cultural diversity of its people, the pastel art deco storefronts, and the tropical fauna that grew wild and was cultivated in the residents’ landscaped yards. The city was saturated with color while still being a gritty, desperate place, where the world’s most wealthy and most impoverished could be found residing within a couple blocks of each other. Art, music, culture, crime… add to that the hurricanes and summer rains. The blue of the ocean with the glittering skyscrapers reaching towards the heavens like Roman temples, where people worshipped wealth, youth, beauty, and the sun. Miami wasn’t so different from my ancestral lands.
