Angel Dust by Aurora Morgenstern (summer beach reads .TXT) 📕

made out of red brick with big colourful doors and windows allowing view into salons and studios. In the distance I can see Big Ben and as if to welcome me, the bells begin to ring to announce lunchtime. The people around me are all husteling and rushing around me, some absent mindedly focused on whatever business they´re attending and others stopping to greet each other to exchange short pleasantries. I look down and to my own amazement I see that I am wearing men´s shoes for the formal kind and suit slacks. It is only then that I begin to shift my focus from my surroundings to myself, I feel taller and somewhat more muscular than usual and I notice that my hair is not falling down to my shoulders as it usually would. I hold out a hand infront of my face and notice that it isn´t my own, or at least it doesn´t look the way I remember my own hand looking. When I try to hold up my other hand to compare this strange occurance I notice that it is held in place by someone elses. I turn my head slightly to look at a woman that looks painfully familiar, I reocgnize her face with its high cheekbones and soft lips. The long elegant curls framing her face make her beauty all the more striking, while softening the harder angles that might make her face appear sharper otherwise. He eyes are of a piercing blue colour that is highlighted by the dark colour of her hair. Her smile is breathtaking and she seems carefree and beautifully unaware of her own appearance. 

"Come on Nate, we´ll be late for tea with your aunt if you don´t stop daydreaming!", her voice is soft and melodic, with an undertone of excitement audible in it. Nate? It dawns on me then that I must be sharing some sort of a psychic connection with Nathaniel, he is showing me his memories. But what is this woman doing here? I am a hundred percent certain that this is the woman from the drawings, I swallow heavily as the implications of that dawn on me. She eagerly pulls at my hand and my mouth opens without me intending it, the voice sounds familiar, validating my theory that I am indeed seeing all this around me through his eyes. 

"You are terribly impatient, Vivienne! Have you no appreciation for all this?", his(my?) voice is dreamy and distant. Vivienne rolls her eyes and pulls at my hand again, with a small laugh I follow her, unable to do anything but move with the body my mind seems to have attached to. Her hand is warm in mine and I feel a sort of buzzing energy come through me as her idex begins to draw small circles on my palm. Her walk is quick and she seems to almost bounce with happiness, which strangely doesn´t take away from her elegant loveliness at all. If anybody else were to walk like this it would appear childish and maybe even clumsy, but on her it only creates aura of carefree excitement. I barely have time to order all the thoughts running through my head as my head turns to look at all sorts of magnificent, curious things that seem so out of place for someone like me who has never lived in a time where there was no cars on every street and no people staring at their phones and tablets. I feel almost overwhelmed with all the sensations around me and the turmoil within. The scene begins to fade around me as we reach a driveway leading down into a larger estate park, the last thing I see a radiant smile from Vivienne.

 

The vision wears off slowly and I take several moments to adjust and process the experience. My hands immediately run up to the hem of my shirt, clutching onto it as if it was a lifesaver. The soft cotton material convincingly real. I have a hard time sorting my thoughts out and I sit there for a long while just breathing in and out. Nathaniel doesn´t say a word, but he looks at me with a smug smile clearly thinking that he has impressed me and he surely has. My head is burning with questions to which i am unsure wether I want the answer. I am sure there are countless explanations and maybe the book with the drawing did belong to him but maybe, just maybe the new additions don´t? But what was it doing in Michael´s library if it was Nathaniels? I am a hundred percent certain that the woman from the drawings is the same one as the woman I just saw in Nathaniel´s memory. Vivienne, the name echoes over and over in my head. I finally open my mouth as if to to speak but close it when I realise that I don´t know what to say. Finally I can think of something that might give me some clearance, afterall what could I accuse him of? Knowing some girl I saw drawing of in a book that also contained pictures of demons, I mean for all I know they could just be documentations of things he has seen. He doesn´t know about my past, I am dumbfounded about this, there is nothing I could accuse anyone of? Hell I am being unreasonable for being scared of a couple of drawings, no...not drawing. Memories. 

"Was she your fiancée, this woman...Vivianne?", I taste the name on my tongue. I find it suits her and yet there is a draker, bitter taste to it as I remember how my curiosity about her portraits led me to the resurrection of my memories. 

"Yeah", is all he says. I suppose he regrets showing me this memory already, his voice is shakier than usual and I can see a deep pained expression on his face. 

"I´m sorry", I say and touch his shoulder in an attempt to comfort but he shrugs it off. I can relate to his pain so I just sit there in silence with him, not pushing him to say anything or to do anything. 

"I should get going", he says after a while and turns to the window to leave without another word. I let him, pain is something I can understand. 

Brothers

I am woken by Michael marching into my room and opening the curtains, I groan sleepily and I am more than tempted to just throw a pillow at him. He is not exactly someone I want to see at six am on the morning, but obviously he doesn´t care much and I know that I will have to get along with him. Once again I swallow my pride and unkind remarks and vow to myself to make this work by any means possible. I can always leave once I am finished with my training. And how long do you think it´s going to take for them to train you? For all you know it could be centuries!, it appears that my alter ego has woken up along with me. Michael stand at the foot of my bed with crossed arms. 

"You´ll be meeting the rest of my brothers today, I have decided that maybe taking you to a small council meeting will replace your confidence in me and show you that maybe respecting me isn´t such a bad idea. Being able to swallow your pride and show some respect is going to get you farther than your attitude", his voice is stern but I sense that I am not the only one willing to make amend. I feel a sens eof excitement well up inside me at the thought of meeting his brothers, the other archangels. 

"And this meeting is at six am?", I groan from under my pillow, only taking a small peek out to see a small smile on his face. he is enjyoing this too much for my liking.

"No, but you want to go out flying don´t you?", huh? I thought he made it clear he wasn´t going to take me? "But only if you get out of bed now, I am willing to give second chances and I do realise I may have been a little harsh yesterday", his tone has softened and I immediately move out from under my pillow and sit up. Michael leaves without another word and I hurry to get ready at record speed, forgotten is my anger at him. It´s way too easy to bribe you, you do realise that?, I tell that inner critic to shut up in a rather rude manner and remark once again that maybe I should get checked for a multiple personality disorder with all those voices in my head. In an instant even that is forgotten at the thought of the rush that comes with flying. Michael is waiting downstairs, leaning against a pillar with hsi wings stretched out on either side. He looks almost too comfortably casual, something I will probably never get over. He is so interchangable, one moment he´ll be all high and mighty archangel and the next he might as well be an ordinary man lounging in his own house. It´s hard to come to terms with, for a human angels have always been something untouchable and distant. I begin to get a different view of them, they might just be more human than they like to admit. I can see through the windows that it is still rather dark outside and wonder once again why we have to do this so early.

"Because we have a meeting later and I want to shwo you something!", Michael reads my thought and in a good willed manner I let it pass. No way I´m going to risk getting him mad again and therefore losing this...chance I have been given. I nod shortly and take a minute to appreciate the clever design of his leather jacket. i didn´t think angels could wear jackets at all...I meanw the wings are kind of in the way. This one however has to slits for the wings on the back that can be buttoned up under the wings. I wouldn´t mind one of those..., I think and as if to prove that apart from mind reading he also has some sort of prophetic gift because he throws a similiar bunched up jacket at me. It´s smaller than his in size, my size to be correct. 

"Thought it might come in handy", he remarks as I attempt to put it on. He watches me struggle for a minute before he walks over with a sigh and helps me. To put it on the jacket it lifted over the shoulders and the junction between wings and back. What i didn´t notice before that the arms are also open and are closed off to make proper sleeves with zippers. The best thing is that the arms are removable with a different set of zippers. The jacket is surprisingly warm despite the thinness of the leather. The leather itself is very soft on the inside but harder on the outside, presumably to keep the wind out. It fits like a glove and I can´t help but notice that his bribery is totally working on me.

"Thank you, Michael", I say and he just nods, but