And here comes Wednesday again and here's my flash. It's been a strange week. I'd built up so hard for the release of my book The Runaway that after all the hype things went flat for a while. It's been a bitch of a day at work and I've got a pounding headache. I need to spend some times with my feet up reading great stories. So I'll soon be off to check out the other flashers. But first here's this weeks installment of Angel.
The prompts this week
You are the sunshine of my...
or use butts, pudding cat
or I'l like to make you and offer...
Use something with stripes
Use whole new world
I always thought you look like
“What do you mean he’s not breathing? He…he’s an angel.”
“And you’re an expert on angels now? I don’t know what angels are supposed to do. This is a whole new world to me. Was he breathing before. Do angels breathe? I don’t know what to do.”
Pasha was shocked to the core. Lukas and Anna huddled together staring at the angel, who was lying perfectly still.
“For the love of God….” Pasha scrambled across the carpet to the angel. A desperate search found a pulse and strong heartbeat and, when Pasha put his face next to the angel’s mouth, he felt the tickle of breath on his cheek. He very nearly collapsed across the fallen angel, relief coursing through him.
“Of course he’s breathing, you idiot. What the hell did you think you were doing, scaring the crap out of me like that?”
“Well I didn’t know. I’m no fucking doctor or expert in CPR,” Lukas snapped back.
“There was no need for CPR, he’s fine.”
“Yeah right. Fine. Unconscious angels bleeding on my carpet are quite usual in this house and it’s fine.” Lukas was angry and Pasha didn’t blame him. He felt pretty angry himself. Angry with himself.
“What have I done?” he murmured again, brushing the bright metallic hair out of the angel’s face. At his touch, the angel’s eyes fluttered and opened. For a moment he stared blankly at Pasha, then he smiled. It was a beautiful smile that came from somewhere deep within and beamed out of him. Pasha gasped at how lovely he was.
The world faded out and Pasha totally forgot about Lukas and Anna, as the angel raised his hand to touch his face. The angel sighed. “I knew you cared,” he murmured. “I care about you too.” He sighed and his eyes closed.
“No wait, wait don’t….” It was too late. The angel was out cold.
“We’d better get him up off the floor,” Pasha said, embarrassment warring with a strange kind of peace that had settled over him when the angel said he cared. Not that it made any difference. Not that he was bothered.
Lukas helped him lift the angel. There was blood on his hair and on the carpet. A few spun gold threads stuck to the edge of the grate. Pasha shivered.
The angel was heavier than he looked and totally limp. It was all Lukas and Pasha could do, to get him up onto the sofa.
“Wait.” They froze as Anna raced from the room. She returned moments later with a towel.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Anna, don’t we have more to worry about than a bit of blood on your cushions?”
“I like these cushions,” she complained spreading the towel before they laid the angel down.
Pasha dismissed her from his attention. Grabbing the blanket that had covered the angel the night before, he tucked it carefully around him and took his hand. The angel was shivering and his hand was cold. “Get me another blanket,” he demanded.
At the sound of his voice the angel’s fingers twitched and his eyes fluttered open again. He blinked slowly and finally seemed aware of what was going on around him. He made no move, but stared up at Pasha with an intent expression on his face.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened but I’m so, so sorry I hurt you.”
“You? Hurt me?” He thought for a moment, then raised his hand to his head. “Yes, you did.” There was no accusation in his voice. It was a simple statement.
“I know you are. I can feel it.”
“Look…how does this work. I…I’m not saying I believe you…completely. You keep saying that I make you feel things…how?”
The angel looked wary and Pasha realised with a jolt it was because he was afraid of him. Not that he blamed him. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t get angry again but I need to understand.”
“I don’t know how it works. I don’t remember. When… when you feel desire, I....”
“I don’t—.” The angel flinched and Pasha bit his lip. He turned to Lukas and Anna. “Can I have a minute? There are some things we need to talk about.”
“Yeah, there sure are and I want to—.”
“I know what you want, Lukas,” Anna said, “but this is something Pasha has to figure out for himself. Come on, you’re going to help me get dinner.”
Practically dragging him, Anna led Lukas from the room, leaving them alone.
“I don’t desire you,” Pasha repeated stubbornly settling himself into a more comfortable position on the floor at the angel’s side.
The angel held tight to his hand. Saying nothing, he simply stared, his huge blue eyes swirling pools of confusion and fear. The sheer vulnerability hit Pasha as he realised the position the angel was in and a flood of compassion washed through him. He was about to say something when the angel raised a hand and touched his face. The fingers were cold and trembling and there were crystalline tears in the corners of his eyes.
“Don’t hurt me,” he whispered and Pasha’s stomach lurched. The angel gasped and his hand tightening on Pasha’s Then he felt it. He’d felt it before but not recognised it. It was like a surge of energy between them. As he stared into the shocked eyes of the angel he could feel hands touching him, stroking him, caressing him. The angel hissed and arched his back. “What are you doing to me?”
“I…don’t know. I seem to be doing it to myself too.”
With the words, the connection broke leaving them both shocked and gasping.
“Did you feel it?” Pasha asked the quivering angel.
“I felt something. Like you were… were touching me.”
“Yes. Me too. What does it mean?”
“I think,” the angel said breathlessly. “I think it means you’re mine.”
Cia Nordwell m/m
Michael Mandrake m/m
MA Church m/m
Elyzabeth VaLey m/f
Julie Lynn Hayes m/m