Fallen
Even Angels can Fall…
And when they do, terrible things happen.
This is a little portion of my story Fallen. (This is like, in the middle. But it's just enough to get you wondering, eh?)
Aranel cracked an eye open as pale moonlight streamed into her room. Calime was sleeping on her giant beanbag chair in the corner, his lanky form gracefully draped across its indented surface. The clothes were a bit too large for him as they belonged to Her brother, but they were better than his battered tunic. His hair caught the pale light and seemed to reflect it back at her, shimmering like liquid silver. His closed eyes were a shocking and unnatural silver, a shade darker than his hair. His pale skin was marred by scabs from the cuts he had obtained in the forest, and his face was tight in pain. Then his features smoothed over, and he looked peaceful and perfect for a moment before his brow furrowed again and he turned over, breaking the spell he had cast over her and shivering. She slowly slipped out of her bed and grabbed a blanket out of the closet and draped it over him. His face relaxed a bit, and he pulled it tighter around himself in sleep. She turned and suddenly found herself breathless; the painting of an angel on her wall was a golden reflection of the silver boy asleep on her chair. She glanced back at him, wondering... no, of course not. That was ridiculous. She scolded herself for her foolishness;
Aranel cracked an eye open as pale moonlight streamed into her room. Calime was sleeping on her giant beanbag chair in the corner, his lanky form gracefully draped across its indented surface. The clothes were a bit too large for him as they belonged to Her brother, but they were better than his battered tunic. His hair caught the pale light and seemed to reflect it back at her, shimmering like liquid silver. His closed eyes were a shocking and unnatural silver, a shade darker than his hair. His pale skin was marred by scabs from the cuts he had obtained in the forest, and his face was tight in pain. Then his features smoothed over, and he looked peaceful and perfect for a moment before his brow furrowed again and he turned over, breaking the spell he had cast over her and shivering. She slowly slipped out of her bed and grabbed a blanket out of the closet and draped it over him. His face relaxed a bit, and he pulled it tighter around himself in sleep. She turned and suddenly found herself breathless; the painting of an angel on her wall was a golden reflection of the silver boy asleep on her chair. She glanced back at him, wondering... no, of course not. That was ridiculous. She scolded herself for her foolishness;
Angels didn't fall from the sky.
~
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