regards to his own cast-offs? The whole process had a ceremonial
feel to it.
He was finally
getting down to the last and smallest feathers and she was glad – the sun was
setting and the temporary warmth of the afternoon was fading, especially since
she’d had to stop moving around.
Leo picked up
the final feather, the absolute smallest one no longer than his pinky,
oval-shaped and soft. It had to have come from close to his body – that
sensitive area where seraphic down gave way to flesh. He stared at it for a
long moment. The sunset was coloring his features ruddy; his wings were dyed a
faded peach and his hair was lined in brilliant frost.
Seeming to
arrive at some sort of decision Leo turned slowly, coming down on his knees
before her again. One huge hand rotated her right palm to face upwards. He
solemnly laid the feather on her flesh then folded her fingers to cover it, as
if he were giving her the most precious and priceless thing he could ever
imagine.
He held her
hand in both of his, closed protectively around her fingers and around the
little bit of fluff.
“You want me
to keep this one?”
He nodded
firmly but didn't let go.
“And it's very
important. So I shouldn't lose it... or treat it with disrespect?”
Again the nod,
still not relaxing his grip – he shook her hand tentatively.
After a moment
she guessed: “I should keep it with me?”
Yes! he
exclaimed silently, eyes lit with delight at her perception.
Moira reached
around with her left hand to fish her slim leather wallet out of her jeans. “This
goes everywhere with me – any time I leave the house I have it. I always know
where it is. So I'll put this inside it here...” Under his avid gaze she
opened the clear plastic slot that contained her driver's license and slid the
feather behind the card. “Now it will be as safe as I can make it.” She
folded it shut again and put it back in her pocket with a sense of finality.
The look of
gratitude in the lovely cerulean eyes, his tiny smile... she was suddenly
overwhelmed by the roller-coaster of the night and day and felt her eyes fill
with tears against her will.
“I'm trying to
understand,” she managed eventually. “I don't know why any of this happened...
I don't really know what you want, or what you need. But I'll keep trying.
I'm sorry.” She tried to cover her face to hide her confusion but he brushed
her hands away, tenderly kissing the tears as they fell.
He wrapped his
arms around her, wrapped his wings around her, and held her in his warmth until
the stars came out.
Chapter 4:
“I don't
normally do that,” she swore, sniffing, her head resting against his broad
chest. “I don't just up and completely lose my cool.”
Leo stroked
Moira's back once, and kissed the top of her head.
“Thank you,”
she whispered. She could feel his smile.
“Let's get
up. If I wait much longer my joints will turn to stone. Time for more meds,
and to try to get some food down...”
He stood up
quietly, coiled the hose at the foot of the patio stairs, carefully wiped any
trace of mud from his feet with the most raggedy of her old towels, wrung out
the sponge and gathered up all the other items on the table. He gestured with
his chin for her to open the door. All she had to do was hold it back and
stand aside – in the next minute he was in her kitchen finding places for
everything but the pants and the tie-backs.
Damn,
that's convenient: having someone around to carry things and put them in the
cabinets. He doesn't even need a step-ladder.
Now Leo
turned, his wings tightly folded, shooing her with his hands into the living
room. She stepped over the pile of laundry (
tomorrow will be Laundry Day
and I don't want to think about that, therefore I will not think about it,
because it will be tomorrow
) and settled obediently in the recliner,
taking off her socks and shoes. He held up the quilt and waited for her nod,
then
Learning to Kill: Stories