Forever, it seems, all is still.

And he is quiet

And she doesn’t remember to breathe

Until he says:

Take it in slowly. Don’t gulp. You’ll want to cough, but don’t gulp. Just take it in slowly.

Then she can feel cold air

It rushes

It flows

It floods

And she can see her chest rise

To accommodate for all that

Fresh air. You just needed some fresh air.

Her blood runs faster.

Bomp

Bump

Bomp

Bump

Her heart skips a beat.

I’m not letting you go.

He does not make promises lightly.

For an hour he holds onto her.

At first, to her whole body.

He had shielded her from the impact. She could’ve sworn she saw a flash of white and...

Wings...

Then, to her arm.

The elbow, he guides her to a bench, in a park, across the way.

She is without pain, but she can’t seem to feel her body. All is numb and still, and he is quiet...

Until he says..

Finally, he keeps her hand within his.

Fingers, slender and pale

Laced with hers.

She can feel his wrist against hers, and that steady pulse helps guide her jumpy heartbeats...

Until he lets go.

He didn’t break his promise.

He just knew it was time

And she watches him leave.

She could’ve sworn she saw the faintest glow fading from his flesh.

He turned to glance over his shoulder and looked as surprised as she.

Then he turns to is right side and speaks as if someone is there. He smiles.

Thanks, for letting me use your wings.