Chapter Five

Prompt: LJ’s 100 Colours: #40 Khaki, #54 Cocoa, #42 Mocha, #73 Royal-Purple
Song Inspiration: Run Cried the Crawling – Agnes Obel 

The man – or Leo as she named him – had been staying with her for three-weeks since the incident in the forest. His presence was… unobtrusive to say the least.

He barely spoke, just a quiet ‘yes’ or ‘no’ when she asked him a question and there was the occasional murmur of a greeting when she left and returned to the house… but that was it.

He didn’t even eat.

At first, she thought it was because he was wary of her culinary skills (it couldn’t possibly be that horrid), but then she came to the conclusion that perhaps he doesn’t need to eat.

She also managed to scrounge up some clothes for him from the tiny clothing boutique in town, making an excuse to the kind but inquisitive old woman that she was buying clothes for a cousin.

He kept his wing hidden most of the time, the only trace of it were the thick, black outlines of bones and feathers that ran down the right side of his back. The injury healed rapidly, becoming no more than a long, pale-pink scar by the end of the first week. Then she had no choice but to stop nagging him to let her examine and dress it.   

She sometimes found herself wide awake in the middle of the night, thinking and imagining, wondering and pondering: who was Leo? What was he? An angel? A fallen angel? Why did he fall? Do they even exist?

Can he go back?

Did she even want him to go back?

The past month of him living with her was simple… but pleasant. His constant company was welcomed, appreciated even. He never requested anything of her, always shaking his head when she asked. He helped around the house when he was well enough: watering her neglected plants, washing the dishes, and putting away her large collection of books that always end up scattered on the floor.

She often would find him in the living room, sitting on the ground, leaning against the black-couch, and bent over a novel held in his left hand.

Sometimes, she’d find herself staring.

Leo always went barefoot around the house. Today he dressed himself in a light-coloured dress-shirt and a pair of khakis that she bought him, looking more like a model than someone simply lounging with a book. He flipped the page with his right hand, his long fingers lingering on paper before returning to the floor by his side.

He carried a charm and grace that just wasn’t human.

He caught her staring and she simply returned his glance with a soft smile.

Leo has often caught her staring at him, much to her initial embarrassment. He never commented on it though, never questioned it, and never gave her a look that indicated his discomfort. Actually, it seemed as though he was… content with it. He’d returned her gaze with a gentle but thoughtful one of his own, once she thought she saw a smile cross his lips.

So eventually, she stopped worrying.

He returned his attention to the novel and she got up from her place on the adjacent sofa, walking to the kitchen. She pulled two mismatched mugs from the cupboard and poured Leo and herself a cup of coffee. She filled her’s three-fourths way full before adding in a heaping-spoon of cocoa – she couldn’t never drink coffee black, preferring the sweet in-between of a mocha. Leo, on the other hand, seemed to favour and enjoy the bitter taste, it was one of the few things he chose to consume.

She took the steaming mugs back to the living room, settling down cross-legged beside him and handing him the royal-purple mug.

“Thank you,” he murmured, taking it from her fingers slowly and setting the book down onto the floor. Together they sat in each other’s company, staring out the large, and wide windows into the garden and the forest beyond, lost in their own thoughts.

She enjoyed moments like these.

She wondered if he did too.

***

Before Leo’s… abrupt appearance, she’d often find herself sitting in the café in the center of town, spending the day reading or writing. After she met him, she found a job at the florists and spent her afternoons at the shop, earning a wage good enough to support herself and her unassuming guest.

She had moved from the city to the small village before graduating from post-secondary, much to her father’s dismay. He’d much rather that she finish her degree and marry the son of his closest friend, securing her future and the company’s fortune. But she hated the idea of a life surrounded by the dark chaos of media, politics…. and marrying for money and not love. She wanted something more… fulfilling.

She sometimes wondered if she’ll find it.

When she’ll find it.

If she has already found it.

With him.

***

She returned home late that evening with a bunch of red tulips from the florists, she planned on decorating the dining table with them.

“I’m back!” she called, pulling off her shoes.

She couldn’t see Leo, nor could she hear his soft reply.

“Leo?” she called.

Tulips suddenly slipped from her fingers, spilling onto the maple-coloured wood, the delicate petals scattering like droplets of blood.

She found him, standing on the terrace. His white dress-shirt discarded on the ground behind him. His single, black-wing unfurled and outstretched before him, and his right hand reaching over and resting against the greying pink scar. He turned around then, glancing at her with eyes that – that – burned.

She remembered a quote by one of her favourite poets: sadness makes you more beautiful.

That was a lie.

Leo was not beautiful in his sadness – in his sadness, he crushed her heart and brought tears to her eyes.

No.

She wanted to see him smile – to see that little smirk that played across his lips.

She wanted to see him happy.

She wanted to love him.

Because she had fallen in love with him. 

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Eirene here! I posted this story on my Tumblr page, Demos Oneroi a while ago and never got a round to finishing it. I am picking up the story again. So you can expect a continuation! I hope you are enjoying the journey as much as I enjoy writing it! 

Until next time!

Cordially
EireneHarmonia