The wind sweeps past me, leaving heavy dust on my lashes, but I don't blink.
I... can't blink.
I can't breathe, my throat is locked tight, packed with stale blood, so no air can claw its way in or out.
I'm sprawled on a pile of stones, drowning in the cold, slick pool of my own blood.
My heart has been dead since forever-yet I see the clouds moving, yet I still feel a dull ache from where my body broke. Yet, I'm still alive, and I watch the raven circle above me. As it plunges toward me, my heart sinks into my stomach.
My eyes rips open, bed sheets tangle around my waist as I jolt upright, breaths shattering against my ribcage. Something hot slides down my face. A tear? Sweat? I can't tell.
My room is covered in black, but I'm not alone in it. There's a figure leaning against the wall, his outline is almost part of the dark, breathing with the wall itself. At first, he's only a perfect camouflage, until the faintest shift of his shoulders betrays him.
"You know I see in the dark, right?" I say, dragging my gaze to the clock on my nightstand. 1:43 a.m. Of course, I've only been asleep for an hour.
I rub my eyes as if to wipe away the grit of the nightmare, and slowly open them again. My gaze catches the figure walking towards me.
"Are you really here?" His quiet footsteps stop. "You're not some thought-wearing Abel's skin, are you?"
"You want to find out?" he asks, then slides down beside me, weight pressing into the mattress, one hand steady on the sheets, the other somewhere on his side.
"Why should I bother?"
I reach for him and my fingers break through him like smoke, scattering him into dust. He reforms again.
"You don't even have skin. I can't touch you... because I can't touch my thoughts. Unless, of course, you drag me into yours."
His smile gleams through the dark. "In the nightmare.... what did you see?"
"Raven," The word quivers out of me. "Again. Always a raven."
He laughs, as if he finds it amusing. "To you, ravens are like pets. So what, you scared of ravens now?"
"No. But in that nightmare, I was... helpless, powerless, vulnerable," my voice trails off. "I felt the baked sand under me, I tasted the blood in my throat. I couldn't do anything, I was just there, watching as it fed on me." I rub my forearms with my palms. "These nightmares-they aren't mine. Where do they come from? How did I end up having them?"
"How may I help?"
"Help?" I scoff. "You idiot, don't you get it? You are me. Your dialogue is literally born from my thoughts. You can't help, because I can't help myself."
H's thinking, that's a plausible explanation for his sudden quiet. After a minute or two, he tilts his head. "...IDIOT?"
My eyes fly to his and it locks instantly. The sudden change in the room's temperature and the chill in his tone doesn't just send shivers to my spine, it freezes it.
"THAT'S... VERY THOUGHTFUL OF YOU."
My eyes widen. "Abel?"
He leans forward, sniffing the space between us. When he pulls back, his lips curve.
"GOD," he growls, "YOUR STENCH IS GOING TO MAKE MY COCK HARD."
And now my heart is doing its usual back flip against my ribs. He's... here.
"YES, I AM."
Why is my inside suddenly twisting with dread? I mean, a part of me is pleased to have him here, at least it lets me know that he's always thinking about me. But the other part finds his nature way too cold.
"TWO WHOLE WEEKS... HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP RUNNING, JESSICA?" Each word drips with possession, but beneath it hums the steady arrogance of someone who thinks he already owns his prey?
"Abel, did you do this to me?"
He's quiet again.
"Whose nightmare is this!" My hands fist in his shirt, shaking him, but he doesn't move, he doesn't even blink. It's as if my desperation feeds him. "Tell me!"
"I HAVE A NAME, JESSICA... AND IT'S NOT ABEL."
His voice is unnervingly calm, I can't even hear his heartbeat, yet mine is threatening to tear itself from my ribs.
"Then what is it? What's your name-and why are you doing this to me?"
He leans in, closer, and I suddenly feel a cold chill on my face, as if I'm face to face with something carved from ice. Why is he so cold?
"YOU WANT TO KNOW? THEN FETCH."
My locker slams shut-my eyes fly open, heart still hammering. I throw a glance at the redhead standing beside me; a question mark seats across her freckled face, then a textbook cradled in one hand and a lollipop in the other.
"Lynx..." I groan, dragging a weary, sweaty palm down my face. "Thank you."
She tilts her head, before her fingers starts to weave the air. "Who are you dreaming about this time?"
I sigh. "Ravens?" I lean my shoulder against the cold locker, holding my textbooks loosely to my chest. Her fingers weave the air again, my eyes follow the movements.
"That's not a good sign," a frown creases her brow. "Ravens are attracted to dead things, feast on dead things, and they have a third eye we can't see with ours."
A shudder rolls through my body as my skin suddenly burns warm-not from her words, but from the distinct feeling of oil rolling down my back. It's odd-this sensation. It always comes when I'm being watched.
Lynx snaps her fingers in my face, dragging my eyes back to hers.
Her fingers move again. "Are you even listening?"
I smirk weakly. "Listening? I wouldn't hear you, Lynx. You're mute."
She smacks her forehead, then her fingers move again with a renewed urgency. "Ravens aren't just unclean birds-they're omens. Their gaze stalks you, presses on your back like unseen eyes."
The oily feeling returns, a little ticklish and sinister this time, demanding attention. "I know, Lynx... that's why I keep chasing them away."
"Well, did you pray?"
My face twist. She had to say that. "Why would I do that?"
Her expression mirrors mine, almost scolding. "Why wouldn't you? Ravens are demonic, people don't just see them in dreams unless change is on the way, and the change... isn't always kind."
I scoff, letting laughter disguise the dread I'm having about the idea of folding my palms to pray. "Then let the raven feed on me. Better to be devoured than bend the knees-"
My nose catches on a familiar scent of sandalwood and musk, it coils around me, growing thick and intoxicating as if... as if...
My textbooks slip from my hands as I spin around to catch no one standing behind me. But as I turn back to Lynx-my heart leapt. Abel is behind her but Lynx doesn't even notice. She can't see him, no one can except me. She crouches down to pick up my books, giving me and Abel room to lock eyes.
His posture is deceptively relaxed, but his eyes... his eyes are sharp like glass, I can literally see my own frantic reflection in them.
I blink, and he is gone. Lynx rises, pressing the textbooks into my hands, but they slip from my grasp again. She looks up with a worried expression, but my eyes are searching for the figure that was just here a second ago.
"Lynx... I'll be right back."
I brush past her without a second glance.
≈≈≈
He knows my scent.
He has to. When I finally found him, I trailed after him through the busy hallways and not once did he glance over his shoulder. He just kept walking, majestic and unhurried, as if he knew I was following. And of course I did; past the chatter, past the rush of students, past the exit doors until we reached the oak tree outside.
The branches stretch so wide they cast a cool shadow over the entire circle of grass where students usually gather. It's quiet, cooler than the sunlit campus. The noise dulls out, and for a moment it feels like we've stepped out of the world.
He stops, I stop too, but he doesn't turn. Why isn't he turning? Have I been following a faceless shadow?
I hear footsteps coming, then a feint voice.
"Jessica."
I whirl around and my eyes lock with... Abel. I turn to the figure I'd been following, but he's gone. I turn to Abel again and he has vanished too.
"You've been avoiding me, Jessica."
My fists clench as I whirl again, back to the tree, and this time he is there. I lean in before his mouth can shape another word and slap him hard across the face.
"Take it back. Now."
His hand cradles the spot, then falls away. He straightens but doesn't meet my eyes, his gaze faces the ground.
"It will get worse," he says quietly. "Sooner or later it will get vivid enough that it won't stop at your dreams. They'll follow you into your waking life as well."
A laugh tears out of me, I can't help it. His audacity.
"Okay, cute. Got any more tricks up your sleeve? First you nearly killed yourself just to push me away, and now you're trying to threaten me? What is wrong with you?"
"I can't be myself," he murmurs, eyes still low. "I can't get angry. I can't fight for what I want. If I do, it's rebellion. I can't be selfish or greedy. And I must not love one person more than the rest." His gaze lifts at last and I see the wetness in his eyes, even as his body holds firm. "That's the protocol. Break it, and I'll be punished severely for it. And it gets even worse... you hate me, Jessica, but you still won't let me die."
"And you think death is the answer?! You think you can just skip reconciling with what you did? You don't get to walk away that easily, Abel."
His voice trembles under the flatness. "How do I do that without losing control?"
"Good. So, lose it. That's what I want."
He shakes his head. "You still don't understand. I can't give you that, and I don't want to live if it means watching your back turn on me every single day."
I shake my head too, disagreeing with his sick request. "I won't kill you, Abel."
"Jessica-"
"You can't ask me that!" My chest burns, but the words tear out anyway. "You think I wanted to hurt my parents? You think I wanted the weight of blood on my hands? Everyone in my life dies, Abel, one way or another, they die! And I carry that burden every single day. So how dare you, how dare you ask me to carry yours too. I won't, I will not. You have to kill me first."
His face twist, desperation breaking through, and suddenly he's close, his hands are clutching mine. "No-you have to try. Close your eyes if you can't look-"
"Why are you pushing this!"
"It hurts!" he roars. Then suddenly, as if he can't stand my gaze any longer, he faces the tree, pressing one hand flat against it. "Do you get that? It hurts. I'm not allowed to want you. I can't even feel jealous when those scumbags look at you, when they say your name with hunger in their bones. It hurts, Jessica."
I let a heavy sigh slip out. "This... This is pointless, because I'm not lifting a finger on your head. I can't lose you, Abel. You need to find another way. There has to be another way through this. Because... you're better off alive than dead."
"There's another way-"
"I said no, Abel! Wait... what?"
He turns, "There is another way."
There's a sharp glint in his eyes, and it unsettles me. Will I die if I press on? "What is it?" I ask warily.
I won't like what comes out of him next, I just know it, or else why would he be looking at me funny, as if he's about to set me on fire.
"I'll have to convert you, Jessica."
I frown. "What?" I wasn't expecting that.
"Yes," he closes the space again, taking my hands. "The reason I keep getting punished is because I keep breaking protocols. Angels are forbidden to interact with cursed spirits. Unlike humans who sin and wait for judgments, angels face theirs the instant they break a command."
I blink, still trying to absorb this in my head. "So... you want to convert me. Into what exactly?"
"I can walk you through the paths of light-other words... Righteousness," he says, his voice heavy with desperation. "Teach you how to read the bible, how to pray and meditate. I can convert you from being an angel of the dark into an angel of light."
My stomach twist, and cut.
I tilt my head, eyes narrowing. "No... how about I convert you instead?"
His grip on my hands loosens. "What?"
"Yeah... I don't want to live a life in fear like you... I mean, look at you. You're miserable, desperate, thirsty..." My gaze drags over his face. "It must be hard being an angel of light."
He unfurls his wings, and they span wide. "Take a closer look at the feathers, Jessica."
I step forward, lips curling. His wings are... hard but soft under my touch, thick with white feathers that glitter as if sprinkled with gold dust.
"This," he says, eyes tracing the span of his wings, "this is the source of our abilities. It protects us. It makes us eternal, It takes us home," he turns his gaze back to me. "It births the power we possess, with it comes everything you could ever imagine and that includes immortality... Jessica. You won't lose anything by walking in the light with me, in fact, Your powers will multiply tenfold as your wings grow more feathers."
"But see how isolated you are. You're an angel with so many chains, your freedom to be yourself has been taken from you in exchange for... fluffy wings." I step back, shaking my head. "I don't have wings, Abel... and it doesn't look like I need one, but you... what happens if yours are cut off? What's left of you then?"
"There won't be chains if you're with me," he says quickly. "We could bond, we could do more than live in each other's minds-we could finally touch without fear of consequences, Jessica. And no one will have to die because of you anymore."
Gosh, I hate that I can't read his mind, his words are so convincing, It's making me lose this debate. There must be another motive aside from him wanting to be with me, else why won't he let me convert him instead?
Could he be the raven? The change, Lynx just warned me about?
I shrug. "Okay. I'll let you try... to convert me. But I doubt you'll succeed."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Allow me to demonstrate."
I close the space between us in three slow strides. Trace my finger down his spine till it reaches his belt, and then unfasten it without hesitation, before slipping my hand into his jeans to hold his cock.
His eyes rest on mine, blinking when he needs to blink and breathing when it's time to inhale and exhale. Then arches his brow, "I'm listening."
His indifference even after touching him, isn't only a slap to my expertise, but a slap to my ego as well.
I mask the jolt of surprise. "This is me, Abel. I've lived too independently to be tamed by any... God. If you mean to convert me, you must be ready for the possibility of stripping naked first."
He looks down at my hand buried inside his pants, then back up, jaw tight. "Your hand is moving, Jessica."
"I think something is moving it-"
"Nothing is moving it. I'm pretty sure ever since you bit my neck in your sleep, I lost the nerves to feel."
My mouth drops open, and this time, I don't care if I swallow a fly. "What?" I pull my hand out. "I don't understand."
He fixes his pants. "Remember when I mentioned that unlike mundanes who sin and wait for their punishment on judgment day, angels face theirs the minute they break a protocol. First you gave me a love bite on my ear, then you furiously-never so gently bit my neck, and because it felt good-because I enjoyed it, I might've lost the nerves to feel again."
I blink, frowning. "And what if I manage to make you feel again, you know, during my... conversion?"
"You can't. And I can't keep breaking protocols, each time I do, my penance grows more fatal than the last."
My lips curl in disgust. "What kind of sick angelic law is that? I thought your heavenly father loves all his children, aren't angels included?"
He shrugs. "Adonai loves all the things he created, and when he commands his soldiers-us, to protect those things... We must do as we're instructed. And again punishment sharpens the will, its severity forces us toward better choices. That way, we continue to be his loyal and committed soldiers."
I nod slowly. "And now... you'd rather die than rabel against him. You are choosing death over losing your way."
"No," he lifts my chin. "I'm choosing death, because I'm already a dead man without you. What use am I to you, if I don't feel you, if you turn on me or worse, if my memories of you get taken?"
I exhale softly. "Okay... let's give this a try. But I'm not of your father's creation, Abel. I'm not one of his things. What happens when you fail to convert me?"
"I won't. Not if you..." He looks on, skeptical. "Let me do what I must do, without interruptions."
I fold my arms, a smile tugging at my mouth. Oddly, I'm not panicking, in fact - "When do we start?"
"Anytime."
"This is going to be a beautiful week-"
"Jessie!"
Perfect timing. "Rita!" I wave, mirroring the delight on Rita's face as she and Naomi approach.
She closes in, breathless. "We've been looking everywhere for you."
"What's up?"
Naomi slips in before Rita can speak. "Jessie, if you really love me, you'll say no."
I laugh, eyes flicking between them. "No to what?"
"Wild party at your place tonight," Rita cuts in. "Naomi doesn't want to come, but if you agree, then majority wins."
I pause.
If Lynx is right about the change she warned about, then tonight might actually be the last time I get to throw myself into chaos without any interference from Abel.
I tilt my head at Rita. "Will there be chicks?"
Her face lights up. "Bet your ass there will."
I nod once. "Then count me in."
"Yes!" She throws a fist in the air. "That's what I'm talking about."
I study her, a little surprised. First time I've seen Rita this excited. Maybe she's just glad she finally has a reason to visit my apartment again after three years.
"Jessie..." Naomi drags the word, lips curled in a pout. "I thought you loved me."
I raise a hand in a mock apology. "Sorry. But this could be my last wild party on earth."
The air freezes.
"What?"
"Why?"
I shrug. "I'm giving my life to... Christ." The words taste sour on my tongue, I almost gag on them.
Naomi exchanges a glance with Rita. "Well..." She goes to Abel and loops her arm around his, pulling him close. "If I'm going, then Abel's coming with me."
He doesn't move, doesn't smile, just fixes his eyes on her.
"Oh boy," I mutter. "What about Beatrice? Is she coming?"
Rita shakes her head. "No. Francis got a big promotion, and he's throwing a party with his co-workers-"
"And I wanted to go," Naomi cuts in, pouting again, "but Rita won't let me."
'I guess she really does care about Francis after all.'
"Of course she does."
Naomi's voice pierces through my thoughts. My head snaps up. Shit. Did I say that out loud?
Naomi tilts her head, laughter spilling out. "Beatrice hasn't dated anyone in three years, and you know how she is. When she's committed, she's committed... Francis is a lucky guy."
I roll my eyes on the inside- I hope.
I turn to Rita. "If you're using my place, you better leave class early to set up."
"Sure... and your passcode?"
"Still the same." I reply casually.
Rita narrows her eyes.
"You haven't changed it since we moved out?" Naomi asks.
I look away. "No, I didn't. Just in case you two ever wanted to come by."
I hate this awkward silence.
"Well. I want to get wasted tonight," I break it. "Don't let me down, Rita. You owe me."
She grins, stepping back. "You'll see. Come on, Naomi! We've got fliers to share."
"Bye Abel, see you at nine!" Naomi blows him a kiss and skips off after Rita.
The air settles.
"You're still in love with her." Abel's voice swims in my ear, calm, almost sad.
I glance over my shoulder. "Yes. And it hurts knowing she's happy with someone else who isn't me. And I can't do a damn thing about it."
"Why?"
"Because... I don't go back to my vomit, Abel." I turn to meet his eyes. "Unless it's worth going back to."
"Is she worth going back to?"
I smile faintly, letting out a breath. "I guess we'll find out soon. Tonight, maybe."