It is easy to seduce an angel

2024 Author: James Gerald | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 14:00

He appeared one night, as if he had emerged from the scraps of my dreams hovering in the room, suddenly appeared in the darkness hanging over my bed. I, as if feeling someone else's gaze, woke up, opened my eyes and, slightly turning my head, suddenly noticed him nestling in the corner of a half-empty room.

He sat with his legs tucked and clasped his knees, like a small frightened child, and looked at me fearfully, but with obvious interest.

I raised myself on the pillow, leaned on my elbow, threw back the tousled hair covering my eyes, sleepily ran my hand over my face, driving away the last remnants of sleep, and asked, looking at him in surprise:"

I sat up in bed and began to examine him with curiosity, trying to understand if I was seeing him in reality or if it was just another fragment of my dream. Without taking his eyes off me, he bowed his head, put it on his knees and grabbed them a little tighter with his hands, and I suddenly noticed to myself that his skin was so pale, as if glowing from the inside. Or was it just a strange, transparent, golden-white glow flickering around him …

When this light light fluttered in the corner of the room, succumbing to the night breeze blowing in through the window, I suddenly thought that his skin seemed so cold - I wonder if it really is? We looked at each other in silence for a few more minutes, and then he disappeared. I didn't even have time to figure out what had happened - just suddenly the pouring light in the corner went out, and I plunged into darkness again. I reached for the switch, clicked it and looked around in confusion, looking for it with my eyes - there was no one in the room, only the night wind slightly stirred the light curtains at the open window.

The next night he appeared again. I smiled, held out my hand to him and quietly called: "Come here." He just silently looked at me, standing next to my bed, crossing his arms over his chest, then suddenly smiled - he smiled for real, an open, gentle smile that lingered on his lips for several seconds and immediately disappeared, as if hiding from prying eyes.

Now that he was a little closer, I could see him better - tall, blond, with long locks that fell to his shoulders. Instead of clothes - a strange short tunic made of flowing white material, with many deep folds, tied with a wide belt. I no longer asked who he was - along his back were folded two pointed white wings, the tips touching the floor.

Since then, he began to come to me every night - I deliberately left the window open, because I felt that I needed to see him. He came, quietly sat down nearby and looked at me, waiting for me to feel his gaze and wake up.

Gradually, having ceased to be afraid of me, he began to come closer and closer, sometimes he spoke to me - he had such a gentle, whispering voice. Then, finally imbued with confidence in me, he began to settle down on the edge of my bed, making himself more comfortable and still did not take his prying eyes off me.

I looked into his light, transparent and at the same time incredibly deep eyes, trying to remember the slightest line of this beautiful, pale and seeming to me childishly naive face, gentle and imperious curl of lips. I so wanted to touch the light silk of his hair, bring his lock to my lips and, closing my eyes, kiss him.

I told him what came into my head, and he allowed me to gently stroke his wings - they were so light and silky that it seemed to me as if my fingers were sinking in them. I admiringly asked him one day how they can be so gentle and strong at the same time to control the wind. He only laughed in response - then for the first time I heard his soft laugh, darting around the room from wall to wall.

Conversations with him gave peace to my soul - in these minutes I felt as if I had gone to heaven. I closed my eyes and caught every sound of his voice. I, laughing, told him about my childhood dreams, and he was happy with me. I shared my adult problems with them, and he gave me advice that seemed so correct and so simple.

I fell in love with him and told him about it.

His initial protests did not scare me, I was sure that we would be together….

His body was driving me crazy. His hands, which seemed so cold to me at first, turned out to be surprisingly warm and gentle. I liked the touch of his smooth, translucent light skin, I liked the gentle rustle of wings in the dark and his gentle, timid, studying touches to my body.

I didn't want the night to end. I mentally hated the sunlight, cursed the sunrises and counted the minutes remaining until the next nightfall, knowing that he would come along with the black cover of night …

Jealousy crept into my thoughts. It was unbearably painful to know that every time he had to leave me in order to return to God. I let him go because I knew he would leave anyway, and I cursed myself for that. I was ready to give anything, if only he stayed with me forever.

Once he asked me for water and sugar. I went to the kitchen, poured water into a tall glass, hesitated a bit and opened the cabinet door, taking out a white bottle with a bluish-green sticker. I stirred a strong sleeping pill in the drink, assuring myself that it was necessary, and reminding myself that I wanted this more than anything in the world. I myself brought the glass to his lips - he smiled and confidently drank the water from my hands.

When a few minutes later I approached him, clenching the scissors in my fist behind my back, I heard his even and deep breathing. I suddenly thought that when he sleeps, he looks like a baby. I wanted to hug him tightly and never let go.

I gently kissed his curls and long eyelashes trembling in his sleep, stroked his thin white fingers and quietly whispered to him that I love him and I do not need anyone but him.

I convinced myself that there was only one way to keep him, to make him stay - to take away from him the opportunity to return to where he so longed for at dawn. He is mine, only mine, and he will always be mine. I smeared his back with a strong narcotic ointment and cut off the snow-white wings with a few sharp movements.

The first nights were hard. He often woke up and complained to me about how his wings hurt. I hugged him, pressed his head to my chest, rocked my head and said: "You have no more wings, now you and I will always be together." After he recovered, he changed. I did not understand what was happening, but gradually I began to realize that every day he needed less and less. He looked at me less and less with that tenderness, with that curiosity that had previously slipped into his deep gaze. And less and less often the smile so beloved by me played on his lips. There was almost no trace left of the scars on his back, only sometimes, stroking him, I ran my fingers two barely noticeable to the touch small scars along the spine.

One day he left.

Without saying a word or explaining anything to me, he simply closed the door and did not return. After a while, I found out that he had met another - I saw them walking down the street and holding hands. She looked into his eyes, smiled in love and did not even suspect that in front of her was the one who had recently been an angel. He is unlikely to ever tell her about it, because she is unlikely to believe him.

I cried for several nights in a row, remembering his childish, frightened and curious look that night when I first saw him.

I wish him happiness, although for some reason I am sure that he will never be happy, because he will never forget that he once had wings. And I…. I will never forget how easy it is to seduce an angel.

Albina