as a fellow student. She is the purest soul; her light is brighter than that of even yours, Chamuel. How can that be? I don’t trust her guardian, either.” I rush through what I need to vent.
Chamuel pales and looks conflicted.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come to you with this.”
“No, please let me see her,” he almost begs, taking my hand. I relax and open my soul to him to show him the scene of her at the school and the dark soul talking to her.
He pulls back abruptly and a single tear graces his cheek. “Muriel, my love,” he mutters in almost a whimper.
“Chamuel, that is not Muriel.” A sweet voice comes from behind me as the Angel Charmeine comes into view. Her dark hair and green eyes look at me with affection.
“Sweet Shamar, it is so wonderful to see you here again.”
I smile at her as she reaches out and strokes my face. “When you speak of Muriel, do you refer to the Angel Muriel?” I ask Chamuel, who is standing so still it’s unnerving.
“No, no,” his voice croaks.
“Chamuel.” A deep commanding voice bellows towards us. “We have work to do.”
I turn to see Archangel Michael summoning Chamuel.
“Please, please, watch over her, Shamar, and come back to me.”
“Chamuel,” Michael’s voice commands again.
“Please, Shamar,” he begs as he follows Michael.
I leave Heaven more confused than when I came. I approach Simone, who is sitting in her hammock. staring at the sky. She looks so beautiful, her eyes glistening with contentment.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Shamar,” she breathes. She holds her hand out for me to join her. I oblige, spooning her warm, soft body. God, she smells of flowers. She moans, pushing her body further back into mine. I can’t stop my body’s reaction to having her ass pushed against my groin. I feel her shake a little. I lift my head to look over her shoulder to see her giggling.
“Something funny?” I ask, thrusting forward a little, sending some friction against her most precious place. I smile as she gasps. She bites her lip and shakes her head.
“Nope, nothing,” she manages to whisper. I bring my lips down to her shoulder, tiptoeing kisses along toward the back of her neck; I reach my hand up to remove her hair from my line of kisses. Her hips grind against my needy groin. I’m so turned on; I want her.
“Oh, Shamar,” she moans, rubbing harder against me. The electric current pulses through me as she cries my name; it could light up the sky. I remove her hair further up her nape and freeze. A red risen mark, just hidden by her hair, comes into view… Ἄγγελος
My God, she is an Angel.
I feel the bulge behind his zipper prodding against me and desire floods me. His kisses send shivers throughout my body, begging him to touch me more.
“Oh Shamar,” I moan.
He stops moving, his body, hands, and lips - every part of him – frozen. I mirror his actions. He inhales roughly and then he shoots up and away from me. Oh my God, how embarrassing. I moaned and he couldn’t get away fast enough. Just like earlier when he stopped us at lunch.
“Erm, I forgot I was meant to meet someone,” he mumbles, putting more distance between us.
I stand up and drop my eyes to my feet, kicking at some imaginary dirt. I feel humiliated. “Okay, sure. Go,” I manage without tears. I wait for him to lift my head but he doesn’t. When I look up, he’s gone.
My heart physically hurts. I feel my body shake as the tears flow freely. Did I read all the signals wrong? God, I made a fool of myself. He’s older and no doubt used to experienced girls.
I rush indoors and shower, the hot water tapping over my skin like rain. Tears flow with the droplets. I let the water turn cold, gasping as the blast hits my skin, leaving it tingling. The water shakes me from my pity party of one.
I change into jeans and a halter-top, leaving my hair loose. After applying minimal make-up, I rush out the door, shouting bye to my mom on my
C. J. Cherryh
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