I want to thank everyone who voted, especially those who took the extra time to write me feedback. I've tried to answer you all as best as I can, if I haven't answered you I will, I promise! I love every email and they make me very happy to know people enjoy my work. This story is going to be loooong, and thats all I'll say, besides giving a few teasers, like one of Makkail's old clients shows up dead from mysterious circumstances... coincidence?And what will happen when Roger finds out about Makkail? You don't know who Roger is? Then keep reading! And don't forget to vote and send feedback! Thanks again everyone, you're all the greatest.
She had seen him. Seen him and accepted him. That in itself was remarkable, amazing, and every other adjective he could think of. He'd stayed until the morning suns began spreading their warm, golden fingers across the city, then he'd flown off, staying to the remaining shadows and the corners, managing to make it back to the small corner under the air-conditioner on the rooftop he called his home during the day. He hadn't been able to sleep for quite a few hours, and had almost contemplated trying to sneak back and watch her more. His good sense had taken over, he knew he'd be spotted during the day. But he still wanted too. His good sense hadn't said a peep about him wanting too so badly.
When he did finally sleep, he dreamed about her. It wasn't so much as love at first sight, but more the fact that she was the first person in years to actually accept him, and even more unbelievable, she'd wanted to see him again. His dreams were filled with her, her soft looking hair, the faded highlights that he found so adorable, her sea colored eyes, as turbulent as the fore-mentioned ocean. The colors in her eyes were the most remarkable, such different colors, and yet, so similar. And changing... always changing. One moment they were as blue as the sea, and the next... a brilliant green. Almost ethereal.
His eyes grew dreamy as he thought of her, then widened slightly as a frightening thought occurred to him. What if she just wanted him to come back so she could have the law and god knows what else waiting for him? What if she really didn't want to see him? These thoughts swirled through his head for hours. As he contemplated all the horrible things that could happen, all the worst scenarios, he finally fell into a restless sleep... in which he tossed and turned, scraping his bare shoulders on the hard pavement of the rooftop.
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It had to have been a dream. I'd never had one this vivid, of course, but it had to be one. HAD to be. These things didn't really happen. In story books, yes, and novels and such, but not in real life. Still... it had been one of the best dreams of my life. And I could imagine it hadn't been. I mean, demons visited people every day, right?
I slid the covers down and sat up against the headboard, looking out the window and squinting against the bright sun that filled my room from the blinds I hadn't closed last night. I yawned and swung my legs over the side of the bed. As my feet hit the blissfully soft shag carpet, I was, for the thousandth time, glad I'd forced my father to buy the slightly more expensive shag instead of the regular. It felt so good on my feet every morning. I crossed to the open window, and looked out for a moment before standing on tiptoe and reaching for the blind closer.
I had forgotten my lack of attire, and as I reached up, I heard a few faint whistles from below me, and I looked down to see my friend Roger standing in the street, grinning like an idiot and giving me a thumbs up. I struck a pose and stuck my tongue out at him, then held my hand up in a 'wait there' gesture. I closed the blinds, ignoring the muted protestations rising to my ears from the street and a disappointed Roger. I threw on a pair of my usual jeans and a black shirt with the words Angel written on it in rhinestones and jumped down the stairs. "I'm going out with Julia mom!" I yelled, then scooted out the door. Roger knew the drill, and had hidden behind the bushes.
Being newly turned 18, my parents still didn't let me date or go out with boys, even friends or ones they'd met. The plan was, I'd say I was going out with my friend Julia, one of the few friends my parents actually let me go out with, though surprisingly, she was the worst influence possible. I'd meet Roger behind the bushes, and we'd go do all the heinous things we could think of... namely go for coffee and probably hit the mall for a bit. I'd met Roger while at a club with the afore mentioned bad influence, Julia. We had a strategy of saying we'd stay at each others houses so we could stay out the whole night, and our parents never checked with the others. It worked like a charm, and Julia got all the pot, booze and sex she wanted, while I got to dress up in cool clothes and look cute.
Guys would usually enter, see my chest, head for me, and as soon as I made it utterly clear I wasn't interested, they'd switch to Julia, who welcomed each and every one of them with open arms. Occasionally one of the guys would get just a bit too pushy, and I or the small but terribly fierce Julia would have to take them down a peg or two. Only once did I have to slap a guy, and he got the hint and left. On the particular occasion, though, the guy hadn't wanted to stop. I had been all set to use my martial arts for the first time, and quite excited about it too, when a hand lifted the guy up and to the side quite easily. "I think the lady wants to be left alone."
Standing in the newly vacated space was quite a large man. I'd seen him sitting in the corner earlier and pointed him out to Julia, since we always guy scouted, but she rolled her eyes at his long brown ponytail, moody expression, brown trench coat, and black combat boots, then went back to making out with the complete stranger whose lap she was occupying. Now that I saw him standing, he was even cuter. He was at least 6'4", and the slight stubble on his chin was appealing. I never really thought men were cute as potential boyfriends, but I appreciated men, good looking ones, and I was always interested in making new friends. The offensive guy left, and I smiled at the tall young man. He smiled back, and a few moments later he was sitting next to me and we were arguing over whether Taoism or Buddhism was more influential on the perception of religion.
Halfway through the night, a very drunk Julia with her pretty brown eyes and long, sleek brown hair turned to talk to me and saw the hulk sitting next to me. She immediately began the usual routine that had any man melting in her hands, the cute little giggles and the little ditsy head tips. I was all fired up to be furious, but Roger ignored every bit of it. When her small hand crept into his lap and started heading for something, without even looking at her, he calmly picked it up and placed it back on hers. I'd made a fast friend that night, and since then Roger and I had been hanging out at least once a week. We'd have coffee and talk for hours about nothing in particular, and I considered him my best friend. I never liked roger as anything more than a friend, though I suspected once in awhile that he did.
As I ran down the stairs and out to the bushes, I made a quick decision not to tell him about Makkail. Though I usually told my dear friend about my dreams, much to his amusement, this just didn't seem right somehow. As we walked to the mall, he noticed my conspicuous lack of prattle, and reached over, lifting my chin.
"Whats bothering you Angel?" He said, referring to my shirt. I smiled and shrugged.
"I'm alright, just didn't get much sleep last night. The coffee'll wake me up." He gave me a raised eyebrow for a moment, but nodded and kept walking. We were both silent on the way over to the coffee shop. Once we sat, as I'd predicted, the coffee and the familiar surroundings both woke me up and loosened my tongue, and Roger and I began one of our usual lengthy discussions.
He walked me home afterwards, and left me at the front door with his usual goodbye... a kiss on my hand. He'd done it once as a joke, and I'd complained the next time he didn't do it, so it had become a tradition of sorts. He'd bow, kiss my hand, and say "Goodnight, my lady." I'd always laugh and wave a goodbye as I ran inside. Tonight was no different, and I quickly ran up to my room, letting out my usual yell to let my mother know I was home. My huge dog lifted his head from the sofa, greeting me with a huge yawn, showing his large teeth. I'd picked up the huge wolf hybrid at the pound and never had another dog since. He didn't listen to anyone but me, and that only when he wanted too, but he was fiercely loyal and the most protective dog you'd ever know.
I ran up to my room and shut the door behind me, and jumped on my bed, grabbing my remote. I turned on the small TV my parents had permitted me for my room, and flipped it to the sci fi channel to watch one of my favorite forensic shows. By the time I finished that and my usual 5 or so chapters in one of my books, it was time for dinner. After that I plopped down in front of my computer and spent the night playing computer games and talking to my on-line friends. Roger instant messaged me at one point.
TheDarkestKnight: Hey, are you sure you're ok peanut?
DarkBirdofHeaven: Totally. Just tired, like I said. Don't tell me you didn't notice my blabbing mouth at the coffee shop.
TheDarkestKnight: Haha. I did. Guess I'm just paranoid.
DarkBirdofHeaven: Don't be. I'm fine. Listen, I gotta go, I'm about to pass out here.
TheDarkestKnight: Catch ya tomorrow.
With that I signed off, and turned off my computer. Looking at my bedside clock from my computer chair, I realized it was 1:45. I remembered my 'dream'. The encouragement of the night around me and my imagination made me wonder... had it been a dream? I got up and headed over to the window, and stared out for a while, then slowly reached up and undid the latch. I turned my back with a shake of my head at my silliness, and started pulling off my clothes.
"If I'd known there'd be a show, I would have come sooner." A amused voice sounded from behind me. I squeaked and jumped, pulling my shirt back down and turning.
"You scared the hell out of me you.... you? You are real." I said wondrously. Makkail was perched on the windowsill, he'd opened the windows so quietly she hadn't even heard him.
