Chapter Nine

Dawn spooned the ingredients onto her piece of bread, tucking them in tightly. Azarel studied her, biting onto his wrap as she added more and more ingredients onto her bread. Picking up the edges, she folded them in expertly, like she had been doing it for ages. She picked up the roll of bread and took a huge bite while looking at him. Smiling widely at him, she gestured to her wrap and put on a proud look.

"I think I can make these for a living now," Dawn said, joking.

"Of course, you're the kind of girl who's good at everything," Azarel laughed.

"Well," Dawn said. "Not good at skiing, apparently."

Azarel stilled. "Are you still sad from last night?"

Dawn bit into her wrap again as Azarel's heart thudded in his chest. What would her reply be? She took another huge bite and chewed slowly as she stared at him.

"No."

The tension left his body. He smiled. "That's great to hear."

"Yeah," she said. "I had a really good dream last night."

"What was it about?"

"It was a memory. Of me and you."

"What happened?" Azarel asked, even though he already knew exactly what it was.

"We were skiing alone and I couldn't figure out how to do it to save my life, and you were busy helping me, until you decided to mess with me instead. We chased each other in the snow until we collapsed on the ground laughing hard. It was a long time ago, I don't think you remember."

"No, I remember," he said.

"Really?" Dawn said, beaming. "I can't believe I forgot about this memory. I suddenly remembered after dreaming it last night. I can assure you though, I won't be forgetting it again. I will treasure this memory for the rest of my life."

"As will I," Azarel said, taking another bite from his wrap.

"If I'm only going to dream one thing for the rest of my life, my dream last night would be it," Dawn said resolutely.

Her aura danced, a light yellow gracing her small figure. Then, as quickly as a flash of lightning, a fiery red shot into the colour, invading into every corner of the air hovering above her. Azarel stared at the red, at a loss for what it represented.

Because, red, in an aura, could mean several things.

❃❃❃

The actors danced on the screen, singing their hearts out and moving their bodies to the music playing in the background. Dawn had her undivided attention on the movie, since she was the one who picked it. She had told him that she loved talent movies like these, because it motivated her to have aspirations as well. The movies told her that she could be young, but that did not mean she was insignificant.

But Azarel was rather bored by the movie, if he was being honest. He had lived eons and no sort of entertainment that he could find on Earth could stimulate his interest. The only kind of content that piqued his interest could only be found in Heaven, and most notably in the personal lives of humans themselves. And right now, Dawn was the human whose very existence interested him like no other.

Was this what it felt like to love? Being an angel meant his existence was synonymous with love, but he never did feel like he truly understood the emotion. He always bore good will to others, but Dawn? He felt something else for her altogether, and it was scaring him that he felt so strongly about her. The more he got to knew her, the more he craved to become human, so he could spend the rest of his life growing old with her, understanding fully what it felt like for her as a human.

Dawn let out a small laugh along with other people in the theatre at a funny scene, her face lit up in joy. Azarel was unable to tear his eyes away from her. He wanted her to smile like this forever, and if it meant taking every shred of joy out of him, he'd gladly make the trade. Watching the dreadful movie for the rest of infinite time would hardly be a fair transaction. He wouldn't blink an eye before trading it for only one smile on her face.

Letting out another laugh again, Dawn picked up the drink at her side to sip from it. Putting it down after finishing the cup, Azarel was taken by complete surprise when her hand crossed the armrest between them to grasp onto his hand.

The cold of her hand wrapped around his fingers as she interlocked them through his. She gripped tightly, and the smooth surface of her skin brushed against the rough edges of his. Her thin long fingers grazed the back of his hand, rubbing over it tenderly.

Azarel grasped her hand back, staring down at it in wonder as more red, red, red spread from her hand to cover his. Putting another hand over hers, his warmth enveloped her hand until the cold left it. Dawn did not spare him even one look, but for the rest of the movie, all Azarel could think about was her hand in his, and judging by how frozen her expression for the rest of the movie was, it was the only thing on her mind as well.