Humans. Because he’s not one of us. “You’re seriously an angel?”
“Correct.” There’s a touch of humor in his voice. “Didn’t the wings make it obvious? What more must I do to convince you?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of movement near my feet, and I swing my head around to look at… Flowers? I’m certain those weren’t there a moment ago.
“Life is better with a bit of color, isn’t it?” His voice calls me to look up at him, which I immediately regret doing. His eyes are not only vibrant gold, but they’re alsoglowingnow,as if a small light was placed inside his irises. “I know, tulips aren’t in season anymore, but I have a soft spot for them.”
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog from it. I still can’t quite tell if I’m hallucinating all of this or not. He just made a flower magically grow out of thin air. Nothing makes sense anymore.
“What do you want from me?”
He flashes me a broad smile. “You don’t have the faintest idea of the exceptional blessing you’ve been given, do you?”
“Me.” I blink hard, failing to make my voice form a question.
“Yes, you.”
Exceptional. I’ve never been particularly ‘exceptional’ at anything. Good, maybe, but certainly not exceptional. Which… makes sense now. He’s simply mistaken, and he’s put me through the wringer for no good reason. Crazy life experience, but I’ll be happy when it’s over. “Yeah, I’m sorry, but there’s no fucking way.”
“Mm, but there is, actually.” His lips purse, obviously holding back a grin.
“I’m serious. You have the wrong girl.”
“No, I’m quite certain it’s you.”
I look down at myself, genuinely checking to see if I still have a body. Death would be the most logical explanation for a rendezvous with an angel, wouldn’t it? “I don’t know if I’ve done enough good shit to get into Heaven.”
Malak snorts. “You’re not dead, and it is certainly not my job to bring you to the afterlife.”
“I don’t even go to church?—”
“Look, this is quite cute and all, but I’m never going to be able to tell you the reason I’m here if you can’t get out of your shock.”
“What shock? I’m not shocked.”
The angel laughs, the warm sound passing for such genuine happiness that it makes me freeze. I stare at him, incredulous, until he leans back against the bench. “You’re a terrible liar, you know. Like, really,trulyawful at it.”
I swallow, fixating my eyes on a random spot in the distance. My brain is so muddy, I can hardly think straight, but I believe there are five options here: I’m either dead, dreaming, hallucinating, or in reality.
Wait. That’s only four. Goddammit, I can’t even count correctly!
“And supposedly I’m not dead, so that leaves three,” I mutter to myself, hoping that speaking my thoughts aloud will keep them clearer. “I’m most likely asleep. The dreams are getting too lucid, and now I’m having full conversations in them.”
“You’re not asleep, either.”
I narrow my eyes at the angel. “That’s exactly what you’d say if I were asleep.”
“Then count your fingers.”
“What?”
“Just do it. One at a time, out loud. You should have five on each hand.”
This is stupid.
“One, two, three, four, five. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten.” I huff in annoyance, as if I hadn’t just failed to count correctly in my head only moments before. “Happy? I don’t know what the hell that has to do with sleeping.”
“Odds are you wouldn’t find ten fingers if you were asleep,” he answers. “They would jumble together. It works better than pinching yourself because you can still feel pain in your dreams.”
