Chapter 18
Eighteen
Cleo
Several days have passed since Kai asked me to bend the rules for him again. His persistence is admirable, I’ll give him that.
I can’t blame him for wanting to escape, but I’m also trying not to enable him.
Quite frankly, I’m shocked the Archangels haven’t reprimanded me for allowing him to visit the land below already. If they genuinely are all-knowing celestial beings, they must have paid no heed to my insolence.
For now.
But why? The Archangels have a reason for everything. It makes me queasy to consider what their reasoning would be if they did indeed know about my insolence.
I’ve grown unexpectedly accustomed to evening walks with him. I can’t pinpoint when I started to find comfort in these little outings of ours. However, we didn’t take an evening stroll together tonight. It’s the third night in a row we haven’t.
I push my arm against my sofa, shifting my weight. Again.
Trying to pull my thoughts back to the words in the book I’m holding, I rub my temple with my free hand.
I assumed that drawing comfort from the night air and starlight itself during our walks was what brought me comfort. I’ve always fancied night.
Night is consistent. Night always comes.
Concluding the new way I’ve positioned myself isn’t working, either, I shift my weight and prop my feet up on the sofa, tucking them underneath me.
Ugh. That’s not right, either.
I sigh in frustration, setting my book down on the couch beside me and pinching the bridge of my nose.
Why can’t I get comfortable?
I must just need a reset, that’s all. The angel mist outside should provide me with the reset I need.
I rise and stride across my small living room to open the door to my balcony, stepping outside and breathing in the crisp night air.
When you’ve lived in Eloras for as long as I have, you’re awarded with a slightly nicer living space.
Entry-level Guardians’ living havens are a bit smaller than my current home.
My haven is complete with a spacious kitchenette, an island, a living room area, a bedroom, a full bathroom, and a balcony.
The balcony is arguably the main difference between an entry-level and a senior haven.
I don’t spend much time in my haven—the space is too nice. I feel much more at home in my office than I do here most of the time. Since Kai entered my life, I’ve found myself spending more time here than usual, though.
However, I don’t know how I’d manage without my office.
About a year ago, Nial discovered me there late at night.
I chose to work overtime to escape that particular evening.
I closed my eyes, tuned into my Guardians closely to see if any were on the verge of breaking the divine laws, and focused on that for a couple of hours when a knock at the door disrupted my focus.
“Cleo? You’re here awfully late…” I opened my eyes to see Nial’s amber eyes. Odd, seeing as we typically only crossed paths out and about in the square or gardens.
“Nial? You’re here at all?” I joked. “I’m working late.”
He nodded, then glanced at the bedding on my office’s sofa.
“Are you okay?” He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head.
“Just fine.”
“Understood. Carry on,” he said, turning to leave. “And I’d recommend resting tonight. Your eyes tell a different story from your words.”
Although brief, his short visit made me realize how restless I’d been. I took his advice and napped for a short while in my office after he left.
Inhaling another breath of angel mist, I rest my hands on the balcony’s golden railing, contemplating whether I should attempt to find some comfort in my office instead.
“This isn’t working,” I grumble, agitated. I thought, for sure, that the night sky would bring me the comfort I sought.
Perhaps, my source of comfort isn’t the fresh air after all.
How unfortunate.
I’ve tried to avoid thinking about him, but it’s no use. My mind gets carried away sometimes. Especially when it comes to thinking about Kai Greene. I just can’t put my finger on why he hasn’t initiated evening walks recently—it’s unlike him.
Come to think of it, his demeanor has changed, too.
We’ve nearly finished the archives project, and instead of celebrating, he’s been distant. Smiling softer and winking obnoxiously far less often. It’s as if his mind is somewhere else most of the time.
His sunny charm has vacated.
This realm must be getting to him.
And that simply won’t do.
All of a sudden, I launch off the balcony, a tremendous gust of wind blowing my hair out of my face. I savor the air’s refreshing scent and temperature while spreading my wings wide.
My wingspan is about the length of my own body, in case you’re curious. I keep them furled most of the time, but flying like this is always rejuvenating. Moving on their own accord, my wings carry me across the sky, passing several opulent buildings containing living havens.
Casting a glance onward, beyond the havens and marketplace, my sights land on the vast estate of the Archangels, surrounded by rolling green hills and lush gardens. A glass bridge, complete with a solid golden gate, separates their domain from the rest of Eloras.
The four Archangels and their staff reside in a copper castle-like manor, each taking ownership over a wing of their own—North, South, East, and West. Working angels with lower statuses like myself don’t visit their estate.
In fact, only authorized angels can walk beyond the golden gate.
We can see it in all its glory from afar, though.
After passing a few haven buildings, I hover outside a familiar window, noting darkness beyond the drawn curtains.
He must be resting. I may or may not have noticed he sleeps significantly more than other angels do.
I should probably leave. It’s late.
Yet I tap on the glass anyway.
Hovering outside his window, I begin counting. If he doesn’t acknowledge me by the time I reach ten, I’ll leave him be. Five seconds pass, and I turn around, facing the living havens across the cobblestone road below, and fold my arms.
This was stupid. I don’t even know why I thought this would be a good idea.
Five… Four… Three… Two…
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” A raspy voice startles me. I turn to face him, and he’s resting his elbows on the window’s banister. Taking in his disheveled hair and hooded hazel eyes, I swallow. He eyes me up and down. “Nice little ensemble you’re wearing there.”
Confirmed: I woke him up. Nice move, Cleo.
Also, confirmed: I forgot to change before taking flight, so I’m currently wearing a light blue silk camisole and silk shorts.
Nothing else.
I cross my arms, covering my upper half as much as possible. What was I thinking?
“Hi, Kai,” I say, suddenly forgetting why I chose to come here in the first place.
“Hi, Cleo.”
Damnit. His tired voice will be my undoing.
“Sorry to interrupt your rest. I can get going.”
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. I ready myself to launch back into the sky and hide my blushing face when his hand grasps my arm.
“What’s the rush, buttercup?” He eyes the moon and slides his fingers down my arm to hold my hand. “You know, you actually kind of remind me of her.”
“Who?”
“The Powerpuff Girl. Buttercup.”
I knit my brows and conclude I have no idea who he’s talking about. “That must have been after my time.”
“Wow. I forgot how ancient you are.” His hoarse, low timbre makes my spine tingle. I reluctantly smile at his jab. “Sure, I was sleeping, but I wasn’t resting particularly well. You saved me from a nasty nightmare, actually.”
“You have nightmares?” My stomach drops. “I didn’t think that was possible for angels in Eloras.”
“Nothing is impossible for a Greene.” His lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Before I can respond, he tugs on my hand and drags me into his haven.
I stumble in through the window and tuck my wings away, miraculously managing to land on my feet. I punch his arm for catching me off guard, earning myself a laugh.
“Growing up, my mom infused that belief into my brain, and it stuck. Anytime I’m going through something difficult, I remind myself that nothing is impossible for me.
I can do anything I set my mind to. I have and I will.
I wish experiencing those pesky night terrors was impossible.
Because we can see the world in vivid color and detail after death, I’ve found that my nightmares are far more real than the ones I had before dying. I hate them, Cleo.”
His voice trails off as he sinks onto his love seat and pats the cushion next to him—somewhat aggressively, I might add. Obliging him, I sit next to him.
At first, I’m sitting a few inches away, but then he wraps his arm around my shoulders lazily and pulls me into him, tucking my frame under his muscular arms. He drops his head back, leaning it on the sofa, his eyes fluttering shut.
From how his toned arms cradle me to his intoxicating, sleepy voice, I’m hardly maintaining my composure.
Finally, after a couple of moments of quiet, I ask, “Is that where you’ve been the past few nights? Stuck in nightmares?”
He shrugs, his throat bobbing. I find myself leaning into his touch absentmindedly.
“Do you want to talk about them?”
“No. Talking about them will make me relive them, and I can’t. I don’t give a fuck how cowardly that sounds.”
I understand what he means. I lean out of his embrace and shake my head. “It’s okay, Kai. You don’t have to talk about the nightmares… But if you change your mind, I’m here. You can talk to me.”
He opens his eyes and drags his gaze down to meet mine. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, sweetheart.”
I roll my eyes and glance away before meeting his gaze again.
He raises his brows. “Why did you give me that look?”
“I don’t know why you insist on continuing this charade when no one else is around.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Why did you just call me ‘sweetheart?’”
“Because the term suits you. Obviously.”
“You play too much.” I scoff. He smiles half-heartedly. His pain is unexpectedly affecting me. “Want to get out of here?”
“Eh, I intended on wallowing in my own self-pity tonight…” he drawls.
“How uncharacteristic of you. The Kai I know would never.”
He quirks an eyebrow and scoffs. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“No, I’m fairly certain I’ve figured you out. Now, let’s go before the sun rises. I want to show you something.” I rise from the love seat and walk toward the window.
He releases an obnoxious sigh and stands up. “What’s wrong with using the front door?”
Sleepy Kai is so broody.
I kind of love it.
“Our destination is this way.” I grab him, pulling his arms around my waist. “Time to play your favorite game again.”
His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to protest, but I launch outside before he can.
He shrieks loud enough for the Golden Realm’s angels to hear and holds on to my waist for dear life. A laugh bubbles inside me, escaping for a second before I stifle it to concentrate on keeping us afloat. I soar upward, higher and higher, passing through swarms of clouds until we near the dome.
Holding on to my waist with a death grip, he screeches, a mixture of horror and exhilaration coating his features. Thank goodness my wings are strong; otherwise, we’d both fall.
Finally, we reach a small pocket of space surrounded by golden, pink, orange, and white clouds.
“Cleo… We’re pretty high up. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there isn’t anywhere for us to land, and I swear, my hands are slipping as we speak. Wait… Was this your plan all along? Are you putting me out of misery? Am I about to fall to my second death? I—”
I slowly lower us a few feet above a fluffy pink cloud. “You can let go.”
“Figuratively or physically? Shit, is this another test?”
I stifle a laugh at that one.
“Kai.” I gaze down at him with a grin. “Let. Go.”
He peers up at me in sheer horror. Heavens, does this man really think I’m attempting to murder him?
“Trust me.” I nod, prompting him to let go. Again. He’s exhausting sometimes.
“You were bound to be the death of me at some point,” he whispers. “I might as well choose my own terms. Goodbye, angel.”
He closes his eyes and releases his arms from my waist—dramatically, I might add.
He tumbles for approximately two whole seconds before landing on the cloud’s surface. A wave of shock crosses his features, and I lower myself to meet him. He drags his gaze up from the fluff to meet my eyes. “How is this possible?”
“Nothing is impossible for a Greene, remember?”