Page 92 of Eyes Like Angel

“I…” Adrian’s lips smacked lightly, in careful notion. “I’m actually quite good at reading lips.”

I paused, scanning him. “Oh, really?”

“Actually, I didn’t hear all of it, rather reading lips through it all. Romano kind of talked fast, fast as a squirrel. I’d say it’s weirdly ridiculous of him to go his way trying to catch your attention, chasing you down like a wild animal that’s been starving for weeks.”

I shot a disbelief look at him. “Is that how you described people in general or was it just him?”

His shoulders shrugged, caressing my upper arm. “Not if I can’t help it.”

Impressed, my shoulder slumped. “I’m thankful that you’ve…stepped in.”

Adrian’s mischievous sly smirk emerged. “Oh?”

Rolling my eyes, I turned away, peering at the shut door. “I’m glad that you did. It saved a lot of…time.”

“Who was he?” he inquired with a lace of curiosity.

“He’s…a nobody,” she answered with honesty.

“Right,” he replied, his hues dimmed.

The pout on his lips pursed harder.

“But,” he resumed, “something tells me he’s more than a stranger. What is he to you?”

Gulping, I formed the words in my brain with caution, unsure if it’s okay to exploit my deepest regret and shame. Thus, I couldn’t lie in a house of God.

“He used to be the guy I admired,” I said with honesty.

Adrian contemplated at me momentarily.

“Is he anything special to you? Anything at all?” he uttered, unable to detect his unreadable tone.

I shook my head, rather quickly. “No,” I articulated, “by the time he left, I don’t consider him as a person who I admire anymore. We used to be friends, but, I don’t think I’m great to be around. I figured that spending my life liking someone who doesn’t reciprocate was a waste. I stopped being…kind to whoever gives me nothing but disinterest and soulless attempt to…strike me down, over and over. People like him leave many times was like…leaving someone in a rain, no umbrella to protect my head over and eventually get sick, until passing into the sunlight, patiently waiting for a rain dribbles to stop, and see a bright rainbow and white clouds overtaking the grey skies.”

With a flat hand—his hand—placed on my delicate back, the staggering beat inside me settled down. As soon as I entered the spacious cathedral, and alone in the back halls, the voices inside my head dissipated.

No angry voices, no demanding voices.

Not Romano’s.

Not the Rivers family.

Not the Curtis family.

Not the Divine family.

Not the head of the church or its people in Fort Heaven.

I saw him, a lively soul.

Adrian Rivers.

A dark angel rose from the dark clouds and shone brighter as the wings and halo crowned on his palest blond head. His pitch-black hues deepened and shine in harmony, basked me its glory of his night-black wings, dark feathers floated and fell, I could almost see it. I could clearly see him descending.

A deep symphony of his song—his voice—somewhere stranded and registered, supplanted subconsciously, like myown consciousness honored him, honored in a way I hadn’t reached the upper limits than the great heavens, and the upper limits was vastly open and endless, the sound of him was like a hymn written in the bible, reached higher and higher I never considered describing.

His touch became warmer, and his voice became friendlier and sincere, less pretense and more…caring and genuine. His voice was a new coat wore over my bruised sleeves, one I can’t let go and undo it’s balminess during a stormy winter clash against the void inside me. Somehow, it was…elating.