fallen angel - n.h.

iii. - her pretty blue eyes

✖️- iii. -✖️

• n.h. •

It was as if my voice telling her my name had sobered Imogen up. Then when she spoke my name I found that her tears had finally resided to slight sniffles, the tip of her nose pink as if she were a sick kitten. Her body still shook with the cold or maybe fear. If she felt any.

Fear.

No matter how much she tried to refuse her fear, I could still see it in her eyes.

She continued to shiver in my arms, her lack of warm clothing leaving little protection to the cold. "I know it's cold." I start. "I'll get you back to your flat where it's warm." I could feel the goosebumps raised on her arms.

"Your goddamn hands are like icicles." Her teeth chattered her snarky comeback.

As no longer a mortal, I didn't feel much besides fatigue and hunger. Even then, they weren't absolute necessities. If I wanted to sleep, I could. If I wanted to eat, I could. But these things would never be as enjoyable as when I was alive. I never got sick, or felt any extremes. Like too warm or too cold, obviously. The worst thing is that I can't even get pissed drunk.

"I've got my trousers and a leather jacket when I don't even need them."

"It's not like I was suggesting you take your clothes off or anything like that." I felt the fluttering warmth of her breath on my neck.

My eyes went wide at her outburst before I let out a loud and abrupt laugh. She was funny. "You're a laugh Imogen. I would've never thought."

❌

"It's the only cover I've got from showing that I desperately-" her arm twirled around fancifully "-want to kill myself." She breathes in deep, despite how she told me she didn't want to breathe anymore.

"Wanted to." I then whisper, "wanted to," again.

"Well when we get to my flat no one's going to expect me. Told them I was going on early holiday before New Years. Better than, 'I've decided to kill myself' I guess. Not like they bothered knowing me. I hardly know any of them." She looked over her arm as she felt us finally descend before landing on her roof. A flight only taking minutes having felt like hours.

❌

"Beats the tube, don't it?" I smirk as she wobbles like a newborn foal. I steadied her by the elbow, looking at the night sky from this viewpoint for the first time in about 26 years. Those years felt like nothing as I saw the amount of lights blurring together from all of the buildings.

Beautiful.

"It is more convenient than the tube. I'll give you that. And I'm not even going to ask how you knew where I lived."

I was still struck by the view, not quite listening to her. She unlocked the door that led to the roof, which her shivering made more difficult to do.

I could feel her uneasiness at being on the roof, her fear of heights threatening to come back now that I no longer held her. It was that same sense that I felt right now that I used to find out where she lived.

An Angelic Ability that came with practice. Being able to do these things took time. But that's all the Angels have left: Time. There wasn't any real sense of it in Heaven. If it was limitless it had no value. It meant nothing to us but everything to mortals.

I followed her down the stairs, descending another few floors before we appeared to what must've been hers. The whole way she continuously rubbed her arms, her fingers giving nervous flutters against their grip on her arm.