6. Amelie
Amelie
I was going to be sick.
This morning, I woke up to the same warm beam of sunlight I’d let be the tell to start my day for the last five days. Everything had been so perfect that the only reasonable explanation was that it was one of my dreams. That, or I was in some kind of purgatory.
Now, as I sat across from the gorgeous Angel of Death himself, I think it was safe to say it was the latter. The fatal end to this fairy tale story.
I suppose it made sense that God sent his best looking angels to pluck souls from their Earthly bodies. I was sure most people went with him willingly.
Not me though, at least not yet.
“I thought I’d have more time.” I took steady breaths as I stood at the Angel’s side hoping to intimidate him into letting me stay a little longer.
“Uh.. what?”
Not a very Godly response.
“I thought I would have more time here. I just.. I.. I want to stay a bit longer. Please?” I didn’t know how it worked when the Angel of Death visited, if it was his decision when I went or if I got to decide, but I quickly gave up the intimidation act and went for the classic begging.
He looked enormously confused as he studied my face. For what, I’m not sure. “I mean, yeah. You can stay as long as you want. She obviously likes you better than she likes me.” He popped a piece of bread in his mouth, locking his glittering blue eyes on mine.
His attention on me sent a wave of tingles up my arms. Each of the hairs on my arm stood straight up, like a magnet to him.
Men normally put the fear of God in me, but that heavy feeling wasn’t present right now.
He looked like he inspired God’s painting of the night sky, but I wasn’t scared of the dark.
I looked around the cottage through narrowed eyes, searching for said she .
If there was another woman here, I couldn’t see her, which sent a sharp slice of panic through my core.
“Who is she ? God is a woman? Oh no. Is the Devil a woman? Am I going to hell for leaving home? If you only knew what I was running from. I promise I can plead my case!”
He let out a smug laugh, tilting his head to the side. “Human, I think you’ve really gone mad. I’m no angel. My name is Kiaran. This is my home.”
Oh, Jesus Christ, was she his wife?
Surely I would’ve noticed a man living with me.
A gorgeous one, at that. Had I been so exhausted from the life I’d been living that I waltzed around this man’s house, made myself a bed, and had been eating all his food?
Was he the one playing board games with me, and I was too delirious to see him?
Were the berries I stole that first night actually of the poisonous variety and I was fading into a pure delusion?
I think I was breathing, I couldn’t be sure. But a whirl started in the center of my forehead and I thought I was going to faint .
Resting my head on the table and breathing heavily, a strong hand covered my shoulder.
“Can we skip the melodramatics and talk about how this is going to work?”
I twisted my neck to look at him. His face was completely blank, emotionless.
Kiaran.
I’d never thought of a man as anything other than safe or dangerous.
But Kiaran was so pretty. Perfectly tousled, midnight-black curls weaved around his ears.
One ringlet fell out of place onto his forehead.
A braver part of my soul was daring me to tuck it back into place so I could see every inch of his tanned skin clearly.
His eyes were as crystalline blue as the sea outside my fairytale palace I so often dreamed of.
But whether I was in danger with him, I wasn’t sure yet.
Kiaran’s calloused fingers picked my jaw up off the floor, shaking me back into the moment. “I am quite pretty, aren’t I?”
My eyes went wide, his wife was going to kill me for gawking at him.
“I should probably tell you, I can hear any thoughts you have about me.” He gave me a wink. “If I’m listening, that is.”
Magic. A magical man.
I looked for my words again because they’d apparently completely escaped me.
“I am so embarrassed. I promise I didn’t know someone lived here.
Food and blankets and books and warm tea all just kept showing up and…
Oh, God is Orla your wife? Am I sick?” Sitting back to let the air fill every square inch of my lungs.
“I’m sick aren’t I? Five days ago, I escaped into the Forest. God! Only a sick person would do that.”
I jumped from the bench, not allowing him to answer, and ran to the window. Orla, Kiaran’s wife apparently, opened it already.
Why couldn’t I see her ?
Sucking in the fresh Forest air, I was left even more unnerved.
“Oh my god.” I turned slowly to face Kiaran, pressing a hand to my chest. “I still see the Forest.” I rushed toward the man at the table, grabbed hold of his elbow and tugged him to me. “Please, just tell me, am I too far gone? Is there a cure?”
He whipped his arm back into his personal space. One of his eyebrows was an inch higher than the other as he stared back at me.
“What. The Fuck. Are you talking about?” He straddled the bench, taking my face in his hands, giving my racing mind a gentle shake.
From this view, I saw him clearly. No longer hidden in the shadows of flickering candlelight. The moon washed his face, giving me a haunting view of him. His angular, stubbled jaw only added to his devastatingly handsome face.
“You’re not sick. You showed up here five days ago after running for about four hours through the Forest. Orla’s name is Fern, and she and I have been living in this cottage for two hundred years.
” He waited for my reaction to the news that he was, at minimum, two hundred years old, and I was actually in the enchanted Forest that held many evil creatures.
One of which was sitting in front of me, holding my head in a way where he could snap my neck at any second.
“I’m not going to snap your neck. That’s a terribly unsatisfying way to kill someone.”
Oh, right. He could read my mind. Great!
“Again, I can if they are about me. However, you said that I was holding your head perfectly enough to snap your neck out loud.”
Note to self: know when to hold my tongue.
“Anyways, Fern is extremely personable, as I’m sure you’ve figured out. I, however, usually am not. But you smelled of fear when you finally got here, and I didn’t think you needed any more scares that night. By the way, who the fuck did that to your face?”
It took me a moment to realize he was asking about the bruising that was nearly gone now.
That was not something I was going to discuss with someone I’d only just met.
How does one even explain that? Oh, those, ha ha, yeah.
I come from a village where the men who are supposed to protect us, instead, beat and rape women for their own sick enjoyment. No big deal.
Yeah, I don’t think so. I’d hate for him to take that as an invitation to hurt me, just because I was used to it.
“I ran into some trees on my way here. Clumsy me.” Shrugging my shoulders and getting to my feet slowly, I tried so hard to keep all thoughts of him or what happened to me out of my mind.
I slapped my palms together and got to my feet, bobbing uncomfortably on my heels.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Kiaran. Thank you for allowing me to stay in your home.” I used all my ladylike words and bowed before the immortal man.
That was weird. Why did I do that?
“Would it be okay for me to sleep here one more night? I’ll leave before dawn. Promise.” I swear I tried to keep my tone even, but I could see by his face that I failed.
“Scared, pretty girl?” A cheshire grin spread across his face. Suddenly, I prayed that I really had been dreaming this whole time.
Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t say it aloud, but it didn’t matter.
“I won’t hurt you. We’ve only just met. Go, sleep. The room you’ve been staying in was mine, I’ll sleep in the attic.”
Taking one more good look at the man who appeared out of thin air, I retreated to my new bedroom.
Before I got to my door, a staircase to the attic appeared next to the washroom, the rail wrapped in vines and the steps shaped like halves of tree trunks.
I shuttered at the idea of him watching me the last few days .
“Goodnight, Kiaran. Sleep tight.” Sleep tight ? Jesus fucking Christ, Amelie.
I took my knack at humiliating myself and closed the door behind me. Checking the handle, it was as tight as my chest right now. Orla sealed me in, or rather, sealed Kiaran out.
It was nearly the middle of the night. I couldn’t sleep knowing Kiaran was just upstairs, probably waiting for my guard to be lowered so he could attack.
I whispered to Fern in my restless state, “Your name is Fern? Do you like that? I like Orla better.” One of the books flipped open, the wind taking the pages and settling them near the end, I tiptoed as quietly as possible over to it and read.
A dreadful sense of fernweh reaps my mind.
The idea of living another day in this life is unimaginable,
I want to see the stars up close, touch the sun while laying on
the sand the travelers speak about. I want to be anywhere but
here and as far away as can be.
Fernweh. Longing to be far, far away living a life you could only dream of. I understood that all too well.
“I hope you know that you’re what I would dream of back home.” A warm breeze lingered around my shoulders.
I had one chance to leave unnoticed. I prayed that the gift of immortality also came with the gift of at least sleeping like the dead and Kiaran wouldn’t be waiting in the dark to live up to the tales of this Forest.
So far, the Forest had only showed me safety and kindness. Something about Kiaran didn’t exude gentle.