10-24-2016, 06:32 PM
In only a moment, all my hesitation is gone. Spear smiles, Spark lights up and embraces me, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel at home. It’s been too long, my only company the fire and the pain that travels in its wake, but just a moment in the presence of my childhood friends and I feel...me again.
Spark’s lips touch one of the angry scars along my back, and the sympathy in her voice reaches out and touches an ache buried deep in my chest, somewhere the fire can’t quite reach. Somewhere that belongs to the wings that once were mine, if only for a while. I sigh and rub my face against her coat, closing my eyes and drowning slowly in her scent, in the feel of her skin against me. “Gone,” I agree, and the muscles along my back twitch, trying to reposition wings that are no longer there.
It’s been months, and I still dream of them. And of the fire burning them away, the smell of searing flesh and charred feathers, the sound of muscle sizzling and popping, bones cracking and turning to ash. I shudder, then snort and shake off the memory. Not today. Today is a joyous reunion.
“My fire is back, though,” I tell them, though I do not demonstrate. I’m not quite braced for the pain that comes with it, not quite ready for the sympathy in mismatched eyes as I’m forced to bite back a scream. No, not just yet. So instead of showing them, instead of bringing my fire friend out to play as I would have done in days long past, I merely smile and nestle a little more into Spark, and look over to Spear and reach out to touch my lips to his shoulder. “And so are you.”
Spark’s lips touch one of the angry scars along my back, and the sympathy in her voice reaches out and touches an ache buried deep in my chest, somewhere the fire can’t quite reach. Somewhere that belongs to the wings that once were mine, if only for a while. I sigh and rub my face against her coat, closing my eyes and drowning slowly in her scent, in the feel of her skin against me. “Gone,” I agree, and the muscles along my back twitch, trying to reposition wings that are no longer there.
It’s been months, and I still dream of them. And of the fire burning them away, the smell of searing flesh and charred feathers, the sound of muscle sizzling and popping, bones cracking and turning to ash. I shudder, then snort and shake off the memory. Not today. Today is a joyous reunion.
“My fire is back, though,” I tell them, though I do not demonstrate. I’m not quite braced for the pain that comes with it, not quite ready for the sympathy in mismatched eyes as I’m forced to bite back a scream. No, not just yet. So instead of showing them, instead of bringing my fire friend out to play as I would have done in days long past, I merely smile and nestle a little more into Spark, and look over to Spear and reach out to touch my lips to his shoulder. “And so are you.”