Ravens, she has heard, signify bad luck and death. Still, she sees them almost every day at a distance, wheeling around the tall glass towers, so it’s not as if they are a particularly out-of-the-ordinary sight.

 

She is somewhat surprised, though, when a pair of ravens one afternoon seems to be almost following her. It makes her skin prickle, but she brushes it off. She looks to the sky after a couple minutes, and sees that the black birds have disappeared.

 

See, Dalbich? You were just imagining it.

 

She turns the corner happily, feeling immensely relieved for some reason, and stops dead.

 

The two ravens have landed. And they’re not ravens at all... she can clearly make out their torsos, arms, legs, heads. The one that seems to be older, taller, lifts his head and looks at her with black fathomless eyes.

 

She stumbles back, unstable with the intensity of his gaze, yet unable to keep her eyes away.

 

They must be humans...

 

...That, or some kind of angel.

 

***

 

Dalbich sees her angels everywhere now; he of the glossy black wings with the hints of shimmering blue and purple, and his brother of the beautiful soft grey.

 

She does not deny that they are exceedingly good looking, in that darker, supernatural way that no human will ever hope to attain nor match.

 

Dalbich starts to think of the older one, the one who first looked at her, as her angel. He never gets too close to her; close enough, certainly, so that she can make out his features, but never more than that. She’s intrigued by his delicate movements and the mystery he exudes, but doesn’t make a move to get closer, either.

 

It’s better to just watch from afar.

 

***

 

It scares Dalbich one day when she realizes how dependent she is on her angels. She walks home slowly now, hoping to catch a glimpse of those striking black wings and endless eyes. It’s a routine that comforts her very much, and on days that her angels do not make an appearance, she feels a pinch of apprehension.

 

They distract me from reality.

 

Dalbich locks her door at home and stares out the window, trying to block out the sounds of her parents arguing downstairs, the hand slamming, the screaming that headphones can only do so much against. It’s not just that. Her grades are suffering, and her friends have ditched her slowly but surely, complaining that they’ve grown distant, and that Dalbich just doesn’t seem to care anymore.

 

They’re right: she doesn’t. She’s tired of going through the motions of life without a sense of purpose or meaning. She wants something, but she doesn’t know what that something is. So day by day, she just watches the angels instead, wishing she had the freedom that they embody so fully.

 

***

 

Shouting drifts up from downstairs and stops, muffled by the closed door, and Dalbich thinks of the knife hidden in the back of her closet.

 

She reaches for a pen instead and sketches flowing black designs on inside of her wrist, until she falls asleep.

.

The next day dawns with rain, hopelessly, as if even the sky is giving up.

 

***

 

Dalbich makes a game out of the raindrops that splatter across the backseat car window. She’ll pick a raindrop and watch as all the droplets travel from the left to the right side of the window. Sometimes her raindrop wins, sometimes it doesn’t. As she watches the city go by, Dalbich thinks idly of her future.

 

She’s already decided that for college, she’s going to go far away and never come back. Her brother, after all, did just that years ago, saying goodbye to his little sister but leaving without qualms. There is no doubt in her mind that she will do the same when her time comes.

 

She sees her aunt shoot her a look from the driver’s mirror.

 

“You’ve seemed distracted lately,” her aunt says carefully.

 

It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

 

Dalbich shrugs noncommittally and adjusts her seat belt.

 

“Well,” her aunt says, “you know I’m always here for you.”

 

Dalbich nods.

 

“Yeah. I know.”

 

It’s not a lie. Dalbich considers her aunt to be her real mother, the one who lives next door, the one who takes her to her classes, the one who makes her meals because her mother never did.

But even her aunt will not be Dalbich’s confidant in this matter.

 

Dalbich sees a wing of black sweep across the front window and jolts upward.

 

“Stop! Stop the car!” the words leave of their own accord, loud and commanding.

 

Her aunt screeches to a stop.

 

“What? What is it?”

 

Dalbich’s staring out her window at the two angels who have landed nearby.

 

“Look,” she answers, pointing out the window. “Don’t you see them?”

 

Her aunt rolls her eyes and looks right at the angels, but her features remain quizzical.

 

“What on earth are you talking about, Dalbich? There’s nothing out there except the rain.”

 

Dalbich opens , and then closes it. She remains silent for a moment, then sits back in her seat. “Sorry, I- I don’t know what I was thinking. I must have imagined it. Sorry.”

 

Her aunt shakes her head. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a hard week for you. Let’s just go home, okay?”

 

Dalbich nods, and the car starts sputters to life and starts forward, her angels following close behind.

 

***

 

For the rest of the car ride, Dalbich wonders if maybe she’s going crazy. Perhaps her angels are just hallucinations, conceived by a helpless mind looking for a solid anchor to cling onto.

 

She checks behind the car intermittently, scared that the angels will disappear, but they follow along steadily. When they reach the house, Dalbich jumps out and thanks her aunt, willing her to go away quickly. When she finally does, Dalbich heads over to the angels, who are still standing behind the car.

 

They look uncomfortable, or as close to uncomfortable as supernatural beings can get, Dalbich thinks. The younger one fidgets and looks around, but the older stands his ground as she approaches and stares her down with the same fierce eyes that have lingered around Dalbich’s dreams for months.

 

Dalbich comes to a stop and crosses her arms.

 

“So.”

 

There is no response. She opens to continue, but is abruptly cut off when her angel speaks, speaks for the first time in a low, husky voice.

 

“Why are you in my dreams?”

 

Dalbich is stunned.

 

“I- What?” She collects herself, with difficulty, and answers him with a question of her own.

 

“Who, or what, are you two? Why can’t anybody else see you two? Am I going crazy?”

 

Her angel holds up a hand, eyes suddenly twinkling, and Dalbich is struck silent by the complete change in his demeanor. He chuckles lightly, a warm sound that once again renders Dalbich speechless.

 

“Whoa, okay. I guess we both have a lot of questions for each other. But first, I think introductions are in order. I’ll start.” He pauses, tilts his head.

 

“I’m Sehun. This over here,” and he gestures at the other angel, “is my younger brother, Tao, who hardly ever speaks, hence why I am introducing him instead of himself doing it.”

 

Tao rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to Sehun; I can speak for myself. I’m Tao, as you now know. It’s nice to meet you.” He falls silent and retreats a couple steps, offering her a small smile.

 

Dalbich smiles tentatively back in return. “Hi Sehun, hi Tao. I’m Dalbich. It’s nice to meet you two as well.”

 

“Moonlight.”

 

“Excuse me?” Dalbich is confused at the single word that comes from Tao’s mouth.

 

Sehun answers for his brother. “He’s saying that your name means moonlight. It’s really a beautiful name, you know.”

 

“Oh... thank you.” Flustered, Dalbich points awkwardly at her house. “Well, would you two like to come in?”

 

Sehun nods, and they follow her into the house after she unlocks the door and steps in. They’re greeted by an empty house whose halls echo loudly with their footsteps. Once inside, Tao seems to relax, and Sehun lets out a deep sigh.

 

“Thank you, Dalbich. We didn’t tell you, but dark angels cannot survive in the daytime; only when a human offers us sanctuary in their home can we live, otherwise we are confined by the sunlight and turn to ashes once the sun sets. When night falls, we can leave safely. We only risked coming to you today because we wanted to meet you, get some answers about my strange dreams.” He bows deeply to Dalbich, and Tao follows.

 

“Please accept our apologies. We did not mean to intrude, but this was our only choice.”

 

Dalbich waves them up quickly.

 

“Don’t be sorry. I would have taken you in either way. After all, it’s the least I can do.”

 

Sehun shakes his head. “Still, we are very grateful.” He walks over to the couch and sits down, making himself comfortable.

 

“Now, questions?”

 

“Yeah,” Dalbich replies with a nod. “You first.”

 

“Alright,” Sehun begins, “so why are you in my dreams?”

 

“I honestly don’t know,” Dalbich says softly. “I wish I did... but I don’t.”

 

Sehun looks disappointed, but he concedes this with a nod.

 

“Well, to answer your questions,” Sehun says casually, “Tao and I are dark angels, as you’ve probably figured out. You’re definitely not going crazy, because I’m pretty sure I’m real, but I don’t know why your aunt or anybody else can’t see us. Maybe it’s because you’re willing to believe in us, which I appreciate a lot.”

 

Dalbich sits silently for a moment, thinking about this newfound information.

 

“I guess that’s more information than I expected to ever get, in any case. Thank you...” she murmurs, deep in thought, and the three of them just sit there silently, wondering about unexplainable events, and why they occur.

 

The rest of the evening passes by far too quickly, and it’s with a sense of dread that Dalbich notices the sunlight fading.

 

Sehun and Tao stand up simultaneously as the sky becomes dark, and Dalbich mirrors them, walking them to the door.

 

She reaches out as they step outside the threshold.

 

“Can’t you stay?” She hates the weakness in her voice, the desperate helplessness that she knows will overtake her again as soon as they leave.

 

Tao looks away, and Sehun’s voice is soft with pity as he answers.

 

“I’m sorry, Dalbich.”

 

He walks back over to her and leans down, and Dalbich feels his lips brush her forehead gently.

 

Then, the sound of whooshing fills the air, and by the time she looks up, they are already distant specks in the darkening sky, and it is too late, too late, too late, to express the unsaid words in , and to give meaning to the wetness that flows down her cheeks.

 

***

 

They don’t come back, and although Dalbich knows better, she can’t help the crushing disappointment and depression that crash down on her in the next few weeks. She feels worse than ever, lonelier than she can remember.

 

And she didn’t think it was possible, but the situation at home has gotten even worse. Her parents went on a dinner date the day her angels came in hopes of piecing together a ruined relationship, and though things had gone well at first, everything had fallen apart in the middle of the meal, and they had started arguing again.

 

Dalbich calls them three D’s, even though it sounds almost comical in her head: Date. Dinner. Disaster.

 

She remembers a time when it was different, when her mother and father had been young and in love, thinking the world a bunch of grapes and unable to see their differences.

 

A month later, she’s had enough.

 

***

 

She won’t be missed.

 

This is the one thing Dalbich has been sure about in her life. Her parents cannot even take care of themselves; how can they take care of her, much less love her? She feels a twinge of regret when she thinks of her aunt, but brushes it away, thinking about better things that will come.

 

***

 

She wakes late at night and dresses warmly.

 

Before she leaves her room, she looks around and bids a silent farewell. Her room never held happy memories for her, but it’s where she’s spent most of her life and she feels that it’s only right she says goodbye.

 

She pads silently down the stairs and rests her hand on the doorknob, feeling the cold metal in her bones. No more hesitating. The knob turns and she walks out into the pearly moonlight.

 

Though she feels silly at first, standing in the middle of driveway like an idiot, she knows that no matter what happens tonight, she will never return home. She finds a sense of purpose in herself and focuses on her self-worth, her identity, the core of who she is, and she feels strong.

 

And she waits.

 

He comes within the hour, in a flash of dark wings, with his brother following behind.

 

There are no words exchanged, only a silent message communicated through a shared gaze.

 

He stares at her with that familiar gaze.

 

Are you ready?

 

She smiles.

 

Yes. Like there is nothing else I was born to do but this.

 

His brother takes off, suddenly, and is gone in an instant.

 

He lays a hand on her shoulder, and there is a moment of agonizing pain, and then only wonder as she inspects her new white wings, streaked with hints of silver and grey and black.

 

She sees him smile at her expression.

 

This was meant to be. The dreams about you, everything... it was all fate.

 

He holds out a hand.

 

It’s time to go.

 

She takes his hand and they lift off at the same time, and she knows she’s finally found the thing to complete her; a pair of wings, and her love by her side.

 

She doesn’t look back as she flies, finally free, into the starless sky, so she doesn’t see her aunt watching from the window with knowing tears in her eyes.

 

Because she flies into a new life, a new world.

 

Because she flies to the dark of the moon.