5 Arabel

I could barely control the thoughts racing in my head as Nathan turned his back to me and went to get a broom to sweep up the broken glass from the lamp I had broken. First he had brought me to his home, an injured bird among the rubble. Then when I had been forced to change back into my usual form with my white wings because holding the form of that little bird was too painful to bare he had barely flinched. Even when I had cut his face with my wing after panicking myself. I did not understand this man and he was far too much for me to handle. I was over two thousand years old, I had been around the humans for most of that time. He wasn't the first one to touch my wings, there were those I allowed to touch them, and those that stole touches, but I had never, ever, reacted to someone's touch like I had to his. His fingers in my feathers sent thousands of spine-tingling lightning bolts throughout my entire body. My entire body, even my hair, felt a if it was burning from his touch that was both strong and gentle. My fire inside danced at his touch, relishing it and there was a moment where it almost escaped, but I didn't know if he had noticed the thin smoke that slipped through my lips. But what scared me more than anything was the fact that I didn't want him to stop, I wanted him to continue running his fingers through my feathers. I didn't want him to remove his hands from my waist or push me away. He was a cheeky bastard for sure, with his overconfident gaze that he had no problems letting wander over me, but I caught myself relishing it, craving it even, and I didn't know how to stop it.

He was strange for a human and even smelled different, not like any human I had smelled before it was both different and familiar at the same time, but I wondered if that was just a cologne or something confusing me. The chemical smells that come from humans often confused me.

"They're white," his voice cut through the silence and brought me back to the room. He finished sweeping up the last of the shards of glass and stood up, his gray eyes resting on me and empty now of the teasing humor that had been there before.

"What?" I said, already breaking my resolve not to encourage him anymore.

"You asked me why I wasn't afraid," he said softly a he walked towards the kitchen to dump the glass. As he shook the dust pale against the sides of the trash can I studied him. He still had a jacket on, forgotten likely, but even with it I saw his broad shoulders stretch at the leather, and I could sense the strength in the muscles underneath his shirt. He turned around to face me again, his eyes cool as he leaned against the counter.

"Your wings are white," he continued where he left off, gesturing at my wings, "I guess that's why I didn't think to be afraid." I studied him and frowned.

"I'm not an angel," I said, feeling ridiculous about it, but it was something over the years that I had been confused with often. He chuckled, some of the humor and amusement returning to his gaze.

"No," he said, "I didn't think you were. I've never heard of angels turning into birds and rats," and I blanched remembering cowering under the desk in the office when he had been talking to Kristy.

"You did see me!" I snapped, feeling my resolve already starting to crumble, I felt helpless with this man. He threw back his head and laughed, I liked the sound of his laughter.

"I saw a rat cowering under a desk, not anything new in New York," he said, "I didn't think it was you at the time, obviously, just took a guess now, which you confirmed." He grinned victoriously and I frowned in defeat.

"Fine," I muttered, "why aren't you afraid of me then?" I asked waiting for him to continue, wishing I knew what was going on in his head. He studied me for a second and smiled softly that made me feel like I would melt in the floor, but I didn't know what that feeling meant.

"White is usually good right? Life, and all that?" he contemplated, "if they were black maybe I'd be more wary." He said scratching at his jaw which had the beginning of a five-o-clock shadow emerging. I realized he was talking about 'good' in the sense of good and evil, white being good and black, evil. I suppose in that regards, he wasn't far off.

'Flirting while Kristy is in the hospital, shame on you?' The voice entered my mind through cracks again and I pushed it back out but not without hearing the angry jealousy he hid in his taunting tone. It was hard to keep the walls up in my mind around Nathan. I thought about Nathan's observation and began to think that maybe there was something to it, my wings were white, I was white, when in my full form, while my counterpart, who taunted me any chance he got, was black as night.

"Hey, you ok?" Nathan's soft voice broke through and I felt his warm hand on my cheek, I hadn't even realized that I had my eyes squeezed shut. I opened them and looked up at him, leaning into his touch, relishing those little bolts of electricity which I now know he felt as well. His voice was so warm, concerned, but his eyes held past hauntings and sorrow.

"Why do you use your teasing tone to cover up how you feel?" I whispered before I had a chance to stop myself. His eyes widened in surprise and then he scowled down at me, but, to my surprise, he didn't let go of my face. Instead he moved his thumb back and forth and studied my cheek,

"The cuts are gone," he murmured to himself; I had already forgotten about them. He locked into my gaze again and lowered his face until I could feel his breath wash over my face.

"Why are you fighting a war all by yourself?" he asked, avoiding my question with one of his own. I felt my heart wrench inside me as I looked up at him, I could feel the sadness was evident on my face.

"Because it's my war to fight," I said, confirming his suspicions.

"You can't win a war by yourself," he spoke softly, still caressing my cheek, but he seemed understanding, not condemning.

"I wont put any humans at risk for this fight. He does that enough." I hadn't wanted to mention him, but once it was out I couldn't reign it back in.

"Who is he?" he asked and for a moment I thought I detected a hint of jealousy but I shook my head, both in response to him and to get the idea out of my head. Why would he feel jealous?

"Hm," he murmured and I realized he had inched closer, his eyes level with mine, "well I have two  days to get it out of you," he said with a flourished wink of his eyes. I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head again but he only laughed and released me. I exhaled, realizing for the first time that I had been holding my breath.

"Are you hungry?" his change of subject was so dizzying all I could do was shrug.

"I'll order a pizza, meat or veggies?" he asked.

"Meat," I finally recovered enough to answer.

"Woman after my own heart," he said dramatically while pressing a palm to his heart. I shook my head, I really couldn't keep up with this man.

"Nathan?" I called slowly, saying his name for the first time and liking the way it rolled over my tongue. He turned around and gave me a look, "better order two." He grinned that winning grin that I didn't even know I was yearning for until I saw it and saluted in my direction.

"Yes m'am!"

Moments later we were both sitting on the sofa with an empty pizza box in front of me, and half a pizza in front of Nathan I watched him as he leaned back. I was sitting on the arm rest of the sofa, my feet resting on the sofa itself facing Nathan who was sitting on the other end. This was the only way for me to sit in which my wings wouldn't get crushed.

"Where the hell do you put it all?" he asked, motioning to the empty box which once contained a large, deep dish, meat covered pizza. I shrugged, not about to tell him that I was still hungry,

"I burn a lot of calories." I said while he shook his head and laughed. I caught myself smiling in response to his laughter. He stifled a yawn and I realized for the first time that it was dark outside.

"Do you sleep at night?" he asked and I nodded, marvelling at how he seemed so comfortable asking questions that most humans would find strange or frightening.

"Good, then you take my room." He said, standing up to show me the way.

"No, I'm fine here," I said, not wanting to disturb him but he shook his head and reached his hand towards me. From the firm look in his eyes I knew there would be no point to arguing so I took his hand and let him help me up. He led me through the hallway to his bedroom which was immaculate, but then again the whole loft, which was on the small end with a kitchen that doubled as an eating area and then immediately merged into the living room, was clean. I stepped in the room which had a large window leading to the fire escape, and realized that there was a pile of womens clothes in the corner with a purse sitting on top. I felt a wave of anger and annoyance cause my fire to writhe but beat it down and looked at him,

"Do we have to worry about your girlfriend or wife coming home?" I said, aware of the edge in my voice. He didn't have a wedding ring but that didn't mean anything in this day and age. He gave me a wolfish grin as he watched me and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy in the lady's voice?" he asked in a smug tone. My eyes widened as a wave of surprise hit me. Was I jealous? As soon as I asked myself that I knew it was true. But I wasn't going to admit that to him.

"No wife, and no girlfriend," he said with a smile, "those," he indicated to the clothes, "belong to my sister, she forgot them here her last visit and I've been meaning to ship them to her." I felt a wave of relief that he must have noticed because his grin grew wider. I had more questions for him, about his sister and family.

"Go to sleep," he commanded gently,  motioning towards the bed, "we can grill each other tomorrow." I frowned at him,

"why do I feel like you're trying to get rid of me?" I muttered, a bit annoyed and I felt my feathers ruffle. His smile disappeared as he stepped closer, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him snake his arm around my waist and pull me close, until my chest was pressed against his.

"On the contrary," he said in a gruff and husky voice that dropped an octave, "I'd like nothing better than to pull you closer," he leaned his forehead against my own and I felt my fire burning wildly, I felt his hot breath wash over my chest and heard his heart beating very fast underneath that tight shirt. I placed my hand over his heart and  took a nervous breath. I really didn't know how to act around this man. I unconsciously played with a loose thread on his shirt.

"I don't know what to do with you," he said with a ragged breath and I looked up at him. He had his eyes closed but when he opened them his gray eyes burned into me and I recognized hunger amongst the swimming emotions. But not the kind of hunger that called for food.

"I should have arrested you for breaking into my house. I should not be hugging you right now." He said and I could do nothing but blink as he continued. "I cant even think straight around you. I feel like you're staring into my very soul. And god," he said and he roughly grabbed my hand that was on his chest. "Can you PLEASE stop moving your hand like that?" I felt that lightning bolt of heat burn throughout my body and shivered. To which he responded with a groan as he pulled his hand away.

"you're killing me woman, and I don't even know you!" he stepped away and put distance between us. I saw his chest rise and fall with each labored breath as he raked his fingers through his hair. I found myself instantly missing his warmth.

"Go to sleep," he said softly this time, before turning to walk away. "Get control of yourself man!" I heard him mutter to himself and couldn't help but let chuckle escape. At least I knew, I wasn't the only one that felt like I was losing it around him. Then I heard stomping and he appeared back in the room.

"For pete's sake," he snapped, "what is you name!?" I blinked at him and before I knew it I threw my head back and laughed like I had never laughed before. He looked agitated and frustrated, but I realized now where the frustration stemmed from and I finally understood it. Although it had never happened before in my two thousand years of living, here was a man that I craved to touch. That I yearned for and wanted to be with. But with this realization came a wave of bittersweet sadness. I knew it was a dangerous thing, because guardians, unlike most humans, did not have multiple partners. They connected only with one in their entire lifetime. And why should a guardian connect with a human who's lifespan is over before it barely began? I knew what this meant. For the both of us. I also knew that I would have to keep him at arms length and do everything in my power to NOT seal our connection. But in that moment, staring at him in his frustrations that matched my own, I couldn't help but shake my head and laugh, losing that will to fight.

"I give up," I said as I finally caught my breath and held his gaze again. He looked confused and I chuckled again.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to stop myself from answering you anyways so I might as well stop fighting it." I saw his gaze soften with expectant excitement.

"My name's Arabel. Although I've gone by many names." And I told him, my real name, my name from birth, and from that single action a smile spread on his lips and he simply nodded and left again.