2. Ciel

2

CIEL

T he evening breeze rustled the feathers of my wings. I smoothed down the coverts closest to my shoulders, my fingers tightening over one that continued to stand out awkwardly. Gritting my teeth, I plucked it out, wincing in spite of my preparation. The feather was long and ragged, missing entire barbs from the wear and tear of everyday life.

I was still growing used to my life on Earthly ground. In Heaven, where I existed in peace before I was banished months ago, the pain of shedding feathers was unheard of. Pain did not exist in Heaven, and each feather we, the angels, lost, floated to the ground almost weightlessly. Here on Earth, I merely tossed the shed feathers aside, where they lay resembling a bleached crow’s feather until they blew away in the wind or some unassuming child picked it up to show their parents.

They were no longer snow white either, something that still shocked me every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The pure white sheen had disappeared the second I descended from the celestial kingdom for the final time, leaving my wings dull and droopy. My hair still shined silver, though I feared that it, too, would turn human gray over time and I would be unrecognizable as my past self to anyone who remembered me from before my irreconcilable sins.

But that was the price one paid for dancing with the devil — not literally, of course. No, the creature I chose to entwine myself with was a mere demon, an incubus with too much time on his hands. I didn’t regret my time with the beast, but that flame died out almost as quickly as it ignited, and the consequences were swift and heavy, still lingering months later.

I lived a quiet life now, existing in a small cottage at the edge of town where no one bothered me and I could spend day after day inside, sheltered from the darkness of humanity that I was now forced to be part of.

I rarely received mail, although today was an exception as a small, white envelope sat alone in my mailbox, postmarked only two days earlier.

I read the name on the return address: “ Ryan Adler . Who might that be, I wonder?”

I sliced the envelope open with a claw, the likes of which I let grow longer now that I was no longer confined by Heaven’s pure and peaceful laws, and pulled out the single sheet of paper nestled inside. There was a short note typed neatly on the paper, reading:

Dear Ciel,

We got matched by the library’s matchmaking service recently, and I was wondering if you’d like to get together for a date or something. The Librarian said that most people meet at the library for their first date, so how does 8 pm on Friday sound? Write me back with your response, or call or text the number below.

Thanks,

Ryan

“So they did come through after all,” I mused, tucking a few strands of hair back behind my ear. “That little Librarian is cleverer than I gave them credit for.”

I returned to my house and sat down at the kitchen table to write a short note back confirming the date. Now that I had an entire life to live away from my former friends and angel colleagues, nothing excited me more than finding a lover to live it with, and this gentleman was certain to be the one if anything that the Librarian promised was true.

Friday evening arrived all too quickly, and I found myself at the library mere minutes before 8, but as I walked inside, the Librarian kindly informed me that my date was not here yet.

“If you would like to sit down and wait at the table in the back, I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” they told me.

“Thank you, I’ll do that.” I smiled and made my way to the back, barely getting a chance to tuck my wings in and comb my fingers through my hair before the door opened and an unfathomably attractive man walked inside. I glanced over at the Librarian, who nodded, then back at the human man who was still several feet away.

He stopped once he was close enough to the table to see me, his eyes narrowing. “Are you an…angel?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.

“Yes, I am,” I replied. “Well, a fallen angel, but it makes no difference to you humans.”

His lips parted slightly and he stared for a little longer than I was comfortable with, before turning his head to look daggers at the Librarian.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, his voice dripping with venom. “Some kind of sick joke?” He looked back at me, eyes roving over every last bit of me and I stood, giving him a full view of whatever it was that he hated so much. “I thought your name was Ciel.”

“It is,” I answered calmly.

“And that’s not…you’re not…”

“Not what?”

“A woman.”

I laughed, hoping it would ease the tension. It did not. “No, I’m not a woman. Is that what you were expecting?”

Ryan’s hands were trembling, his eyes bright with anger. “Well, yes, because that was what I put in my application.” He turned back to look at the Librarian, who couldn’t even pretend to be busy doing something.

They stood in silence, staring at the two of us, hoping the atmosphere would change and we would sit back down. “I cannot control the match that fate dictates,” they finally said, their voice quiet and squeaky as a mouse.

“Oh, is that what it is?” Ryan asked. “ Fate ?”

“Ryan, please sit down,” I insisted. “We can talk things through better if we’re sitting face to face.”

“Absolutely not, and it’s Mr. Adler to you,” he spat.

He turned to leave and, without thinking, I took a step forward and grabbed his arm. “You’re lying to yourself if you think we were matched up for no reason whatsoever.”

“Ow! Get your fucking hands off of me.” He wrenched his arm away and I slackened my grip, letting him go.

“I apologize. But don’t leave now, not when you’re so visibly upset. You may do something you regret, and then where will we be?”

“Not together, at least,” he said, storming past the front desk.

I followed after him, my feet carrying me twice as fast with half the effort, and I slipped through the door even when he tried to slam it in my face.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, stopping to face me in the parking lot, “so you might as well just go home and forget that this ever happened because that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Will you?” I asked. “Will you truly forget about it? I spent most of my life suppressing what — who — I really was, and when I finally allowed myself some freedom, they clipped my wings.”

He glanced back at said wings. “They look fine to me. Is that yet another lie that you and that goddamned Librarian conspired to tell me?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a metaphor. And I do not work with the Librarian, that much you’re mistaken about.”

“Of course I am. I’m mistaken about everything, apparently. Except, I’m not gay and I’m not interested in an angel of all creatures, so please just leave me alone. Maybe that Librarian made an error or got the wrong idea, I don’t know, but what I do know is that this will never, ever work.”

He stepped away from me, breaking into a jog as he reached the road. He’d walked here, that much was obvious, but as he made to cross the street, a car came careening down the road, its headlights blazing in the darkness.

“Ryan, look out!” I cried, dashing forward to catch him before the speeding vehicle crashed directly into him.