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Sara was walking slowly, almost as if her legs had been filled with something heavy. At the same time, she felt an odd lightness in her chest, like the Almighty had relieved her of every worry that might have ever weighed on her mind.
It took her a moment, blinking into the surrounding light, until she realised what the cause of this peculiar lightness was: as she looked down to her side, she saw a soft hand in hers, their fingers intertwined. And as she slowly lifted her head, trailing her eyes up the other arm, she finally looked into the dark eyes of Yasmin Khan, gleaming with the reflection of the golden light that still surrounded them. As she watched her lips curl up into a smile, Sara felt like her heart stopped beating for a second. Turning fully towards the woman, she was overcome with a completely unfamiliar urge. Confusion settled in her chest as she found herself imagining that she would lean in, pressing her own lips against those of Yasmin, a gesture that she had never felt a need for before. It was quickly replaced by the most exquisite kind of pain as Yaz reached out, dropping her hand in order to place both of hers on the nape of Sara’s neck.
“Yaz,” she whispered, yet found that no words escaped her mouth.
The moment Yaz leaned upwards, still smiling as her eyes dropped to the blonde’s lips, Sara realised that the light that surrounded them came from her own wings. They were wrapped around Yaz in a protective gesture, as if to hold her close, shielding both of them from whatever the world around them might bring.
As Yaz’s lips finally pressed against her own, Sara’s heart filled with a blazing warmth, unlike anything she had ever felt before, and she felt her own hands rise to Yaz’s hips as she pulled her impossibly closer, her wings softly grazing the woman’s back.
“I will protect you forever,”
she thought, before the world around her faded, slowly, giving way to an all-encompassing darkness.
—-
Yasmin Khan wondered if one day she would stop feeling this twinge in her chest whenever she walked up the stairs to her new flat. This moment when, despite everything, a silent fear settled in her heart that she couldn’t quite shake until her key turned in the door and she walked through to the living room, finding Sara sitting on the couch with two cups of tea in front of her on the table. And every day, the fear melted away as if it had never existed as soon as Sara looked up from the book she was holding, a warm smile spreading across her face.
“Tea?”
“Yes.”
Yaz had soon discovered that Sara had a soft spot for stories, particularly those that had a little bit of magic in them. She had burned through Yaz’s library in a matter of days, and so a new tradition had settled into their lives.
Smiling, Yaz slipped one hand into the messenger bag that was still slung over her shoulder.
“The next one,” she said as she pulled out a book, holding it out towards Sara, whose eyes lit up.
Dropping her bag on the floor and picking up her mug from the table, Yaz settled in next to Sara; her legs pulled up on the couch and closing her eyes as the blonde slung one arm around her, the other one already busy holding open her new book.
And Yasmin Khan wondered if one day she would have the courage to ask for what she really wanted.
—-
“Yaz,” Sara said one Sunday evening, as she watched her put the last dishes into the cupboard above the sink.
“Hm?” the woman replied, brows furrowed as she concentrated on balancing a stack of plates.
“Do you see pictures when you sleep?”
The question had been on her mind for a couple of days now. She had felt too silly to ask about it the first time it had happened - the night after finding her way back to Yaz - but now she woke up every morning with images dancing behind her eyelids and she had no idea what they meant or where they came from.
She watched as Yaz pushed the stack of plates into the cupboard and turned towards her, smile on her face.
“ A smile is good, ” she thought. It meant that she maybe probably wasn’t losing her mind.
“Sara,” Yaz said, walking towards her and taking her hand. Looking up at her, she continued softly.
“I think you were dreaming.”
Sara blinked, confused. “Dreaming?” she finally said. “I thought dreams were what you called the things you want to have.”
“Well, yes,” Yaz replied, cocking her head to the side. “But sometimes we can’t see what we really want when we’re awake, so it comes to us when we’re asleep.”
“Oh,” Sara said. The pictures, her dreams, had all showed her the same thing.
“What did you see?”
She should have known the question would come, yet she found herself completely unprepared for it now that it hung in the air between them; her heart suddenly beating fast into her chest, aching just like it did when she woke up in the mornings.
Instead of saying anything, she looked at Yaz, standing in front of her like she did in her dreams: warm eyes shining, smiling softly, holding her hand.
So Sara decided that she, too, would do what she had done in her dreams.
—-
For a moment, Yaz didn’t know what was happening. Sara was looking at her, a puzzled expression on her face, and then the next second it had cleared away, replaced instead by a silent determination.
Then she leaned down, pressing her lips against Yaz’s.
And Yasmin’s world turned on its head.
Warmth exploded across her chest like a dying sun’s last breath, and she felt the air catch in her throat as Sara’s hands wrapped around her lower back, pulling her close.
Not knowing when she had done so, Yaz realised that her arms were wrapped around Sara’s neck, one hand gliding into the woman’s soft blonde hair as she responded to the kiss with all she had.
She had waited. After Sara had come back, Yaz had helped her adjust to her new life. Her priority had been to make Sara feel at home, to create a new life for them that she would feel comfortable and happy in, and so she had put her own desires aside. Still, their unspoken feelings had filled the air between them, making it hard to breathe on some days, when all Yaz wanted to do was reach out and kiss her.
Barely coming up for air, she heard Sara murmur between kisses.
“Yaz.”
Her heart fluttered.
“I want more Yaz.”
A missed beat, like her heart had stopped.
“I don’t know.”
Another kiss, soft and passionate at the same time.
“How?”
She felt her heart melt.
“Sara,” Yaz said as she put a hand on the blonde’s chest, pulling back. The former angel’s hair was mussed, her lips red and puffy from kissing, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed.
Yaz didn’t know where she found the willpower to stop herself from kissing her again right away. But all that mattered was that Sara felt safe.
“We can take it slow. No need to rush anything.”
“No,” Sara replied immediately, shaking her head vigorously. “I have waited half an eternity for you.”
And then, a moment later.
“Show me how.”
—-
As they tumbled through the kitchen, hips hitting counters and tables as they both found themselves too caught up in each other’s lips to remember the layout of their flat, Sara wasn’t quite sure if one of those dreams of hers had snuck up on her while she was awake. But she was too busy trying to figure out where to put her hands, wanting to pull Yaz impossibly closer while they stumbled into the bedroom, to dwell on it any longer. The rest of her doubts were erased from her mind as the back of her legs hit the bed, effectively causing them to fall backwards into the sheets, all tangled up in each other, barely breaking their kiss to acknowledge that they were both alright.
“Sara,” Yaz mumbled into their kisses, and she felt heat flash through her entire body as a hand grazed the skin just above her trousers and a sound filled the air between them.
It took her a moment to realise that the sound had escaped her own lips, deep and filled with an irrepressible need for something of which she neither knew what it was, nor how she could relieve it.
Yaz was soft, gentle, and slow. Almost too slow, as Sara found herself wanting to be touched, held, and move her own hands over the other woman’s body all at the same time.
Finally, their eagerness overtook both of them, making their movements clumsy as shirts were pulled over heads, buttons undone and trousers discarded onto the floor.
As Yaz’s kisses wandered to the side of Sara’s neck, she found another sound escaping her as she dug her nails into the woman’s back. A moment later, she was desperately reaching for the clasp of Yaz’s bra, wanting nothing more than to rip away the last bits of cloth separating her own skin from the woman’s.
When Yaz’s mouth traced a path down her collarbones, finding their way to Sara’s own breasts, she closed her eyes as she saw stars appear behind her eyelids, and when she felt their naked bodies finally pressed together, she realised that flying could never compare.
Her eyes flew wide open when Yaz’s hand finally glided up along her thigh, finding a spot between her legs, touching a burning core that she hadn’t known existed with the most gentle of caresses, and Sara saw the world around them implode, as if the universe had died and was being reborn all at the same time.
As a wave of the most beautiful pain she had ever felt rolled over her moments later, drowning out everything else, she heard Yaz’s name tumble over her lips over and over and over again.
And then Sara suddenly found herself wishing for her wings back; wishing that she could fold them behind Yasmin's back, pulling her close and locking the world around them out just for this moment when, between tangled sheets and heavy kisses, they created their own piece of heaven.
—-
Yaz woke up the next morning, her body covered by nothing but a sheet, smile spreading across her face at the thought of a night filled with whispered promises of forever, and she carefully stretched herself, delighting in the wonderful aches that were blooming across her body.
Turning around to look at Sara, her heart stopped.
The blonde was curled up in a ball next to her, sheet tossed to the side, eyes foggy as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Sara,” Yaz whispered. “Oh God, Sariel, I am so, so sorry.”
She felt panic rise at the back of her throat as she lay there, frozen, realising that she had no idea what to do now.
“I have hurt her.”
“She didn’t want this.”
Her mind kept racing until finally, a soft sob and a broken “Yaz” snapped her out of her own thoughts.
“Yaz,” Sara repeated, stretching out a hand towards her.
“I’m here,” Yaz said, swallowing as she sat up to scooch over, closer to Sara so she could grab a hold of her hand. “What’s going on? Did I hurt you last night?”
Sara shook her head, and Yaz couldn’t help but feel relief flood through her. Realising that the other woman was shaking, she grabbed the blanket, quickly covering her with the soft material.
“My wings,” Sara breathed out. “They hurt.”
“What?”
Confused, Yaz bent over, softly lifting the blanket in order to look at Sara’s back to see the familiar welts, redder, bigger, and angrier than she remembered them from the first time she had seen them.
“How?” she asked, carefully placing a hand on Sara’s cheek.
“I don’t know,” the woman replied, tears still escaping her eyes. “They are not there but they hurt.”
And a moment later, she added, even more quietly.
“Everything feels so heavy, Yaz. I can’t move.”
Yaz felt her heart break in her chest. All she wanted to do was scoop the woman up in her arms and hold her until the pain went away.
Phantom pain?
It wasn’t impossible, albeit still a complete surprise. It made sense, in the end, though. The other woman had lost an integral part of herself and her body, and it was entirely normal that she would feel some kind of loss and pain after. Only Yaz had been too caught up in her own feelings, her own desires, to realise that this might happen.
She tried to ignore the gnawing guilt that had settled deep in her stomach and made a decision. Picking up her phone, she dialed her superior’s number and let them know that she wouldn’t be coming in today, and possibly tomorrow as well, since she felt sick.
She saw Sara’s eyes widen in surprise and shook her head as she tossed her phone to the side.
“I’m staying with you.”
—-
Mornings came and went, and there was nothing but a slow fog crawling through her mind, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.
Afternoons drizzled past, filled with a silence that screamed into her ears, pressing them shut.
Evenings loomed, a blanket made of darkness settling over her body that brought no comfort, only suffocation.
Nights never ended, with eyes wide open, staring into a nothingness that held more threats than a something ever could.
And through all of it, a heaviness settled so deep in her bones that she could not move.
—-
Yaz stayed home for a day, then two, then a week. She watched over Sara as she remained lying in bed, unmoving, occasionally silent tears running down her face.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” Sara sobbed one morning as Yaz brought her a cup of tea, and all Yaz could do was hold her tight, telling her how much she loved her and that everything would be alright. After a couple of days, she found that she was trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince the woman in her arms.
On the third day, when Yaz wanted to leave the room to go cook some lunch, Sara held on to her, a desperate plea in her eyes.
“Don’t go away,” she whispered, and the broken sound of the words drove a knife into Yaz’s chest.
So she did the only thing she could think off.
Bringing one arm underneath Sara’s legs, the other securely around her shoulders, she lifted the woman up.
“I’ve got you,” she said. “And I’m never going away.”
In response, Sara just buried her face in her shirt, holding on to Yaz with both hands like her life depended on it.
—-
Every time Yaz lifted her up to carry her with her, Sara felt a little bit of weight leave her bones, like the other woman was carrying her pain, too.
She sat on the kitchen chairs, wrapped up in Yaz’s warmest hoodie, and watched her cook.
She was curled up on the couch, cup of tea in hand, and wished she could disappear fully into the woman’s embrace.
She stood in the shower, water running down a body that she could not feel, while Yaz carefully washed her skin and hair, wrapping her up in warm towels afterwards to keep her warm and close.
She lied on the bed, blanket pulled up to her chin, and listened to Yaz’s soft voice as she read her favourite stories to her; fairytales that she could almost see appear in front of her inner eye, blurry like from a distance.
On the fifth day, the fog lifted, just in a corner of her mind, a brief ray of light shining in.
On the sixth day, the world starting sharpening around the edges, like a camera was being set into focus.
And on the seventh day, she woke up and found herself able to breathe again, like she had been submerged in a thick liquid that made her unable to see or hear, and now, with one final push to the surface, the world had suddenly become loud and bright and colourful again.
“Yaz,” she said, nudging the figure of the sleeping woman next to her.
“Yaz, I love you.”
And when the words left her lips, she knew they were true.
—-
“I love you.”
The words kept ringing in Yaz’s ears wherever she went, conjuring up an excruciating mix of fear and delight. They should have made her happy, but instead, they had wrapped themselves around her heart like ice, a cruel reminder of her wrongdoings.
“I love you.”
That night, the reply had stayed hidden on the tip of her tongue, never to be spoken, as she pretended to still be asleep.
But as the days came and went, Yaz felt like she was always one step away from the abyss. She went back to work, telling everyone how much better she was feeling, and tried to go about her shifts as always. Yet there was a guilt roiling in her stomach, a sense of dark responsibility that she could not get rid off - not that she had tried.
In the evenings, she brought more books home for Sara, and made sure she had anything else she might need, barely sitting down before she would jump up again to prepare dinner or fetch more tea. Sitting next to her was as close as she let herself get to the other woman anymore.
How could she ask for more? Whenever she felt the urge to kiss Sara, to touch her cheek, bury her face in her neck, an image of the blonde, helpless and terrified, tears running down her cheeks, flashed through her head.
“My fault,” she thought, a never-ending mantra that circled round and round in her head, reminding Yaz that she could never be good enough, that she would never be able to give Sara the life she deserved.
She had wanted the angel for herself. She had wanted her here, on earth, effectively taking her wings away.
“Selfish.”
And now Sara had to pay the price.
— -
Yaz didn’t want to touch her anymore, now that she was broken.
And all Sara’s mind did was keep replaying that night over and over again, torturing her with it during every waking moment.
The way Yaz’s skin had felt so soft against her own.
The way she had looked at her, as if Sara herself had hung the stars.
The way she had smiled after, as if every wish she had ever had had been fulfilled.
She had looked so happy, head resting on the pillow, pushing a stray lock of hair behind Sara’s ear.
But now Sara was broken, and Yaz looked the other way.
—-
“Oi, Yaz, what are you still doing here?”
Yaz looked up to find her partner, Ryan, standing next to her desk, one eyebrow raised.
“Usually you can’t be kept in here for one more second once your shift is over.”
Shifting some papers around on her desk, Yaz felt her cheeks grow warm. “Just finishing this up,” she mumbled, not looking Ryan in the eye.
“Alright, but don’t be too late anymore, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ryan turned around and walked out, leaving Yaz all alone in the large room. She took a deep breath, and pushed her paperwork away. She couldn’t avoid home forever, even if she couldn’t help but think that Sara was better off without her these days.
As she walked through the lobby, she threw a glance at the community announcements board, an old habit leftover from her childhood where she had always loved to read the little notes and posters, wondering who was behind all of them.
She stopped as her eyes glanced at a red leaflet, almost buried underneath others.
Sheffield Children’s Choir
Without thinking, she tucked the leaflet off the board, and couldn’t help but feel a smile spread over her face. Maybe she could make up for it, just a little bit. Maybe she could make Sara smile again, too.
She kept thinking about it on her drive home, and held the piece of paper in her hand as she turned the key in the door, holding it up as she walked into the living room.
It was empty.
Frowning, she turned around and followed the light into the kitchen, and felt relief flood through her when she found Sara there, sitting at the table, brows furrowed and a book lying in front of her.
But looking up, her face somehow turned even more serious.
“You lied to me, Yaz.”
From one moment to the next, Yaz’s mouth was completely dry and she felt something drop into her stomach.
“Lied?”
Sara stood up, picking up the book and walking towards Yaz. She stopped in front of her and held it up.
Grimm’s Fairytales.
It was the book she had read to her when Sara was in so much pain, and Yaz had no idea what was happening right now.
“I don’t -”
“You told me he knew immediately that it was her, and that the sisters’ feet simply didn’t fit into the shoe.”
Yaz tried to swallow, confused. “Yes?”
“They cut off their toes, Yaz!”
It took Yaz a moment to put two and two together.
“Oh,” she said. “ Oh. ”
And then, not knowing where it came from, Yaz broke out into laughter.
It was a relieving feeling, and she couldn’t think of the last time she had laughed like this.
Then she remembered.
And in the next moment, she was crying.
—-
“Yaz!”
One moment, Yaz had been laughing, and now she was sinking down on her knees in front of her, hands covering her face as a red piece of paper fell to the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” Yaz whispered between broken sobs.
“Yaz,” Sara said again, kneeling down on the floor in front of her. “Yaz, what’s happening?”
More sobs, causing the woman’s entire body to shake. Then, almost inaudible:
“I failed you.”
Sara’s heart sank. So this was it. Really, she should have known that it was coming, yet she had hoped. Hope was in her bones, after all.
For once, she wished that it wasn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and resisted the urge to touch Yaz’s cheek. “I know this is not what you wanted.”
A moment passed, then Yaz looked up from underneath her hands, slowly dropping them into her lap.
“What?”
Feeling tears well up in her own eyes, Sara looked down.
“I,” she started, not knowing how to continue. “I know you wanted…”
She swallowed, eyes still avoiding Yaz’s.
“You thought you were getting someone strong. Someone who can protect you. But now it turns out I’m…”
She stopped herself again, trying to keep the tears from falling, unsuccessfully. “Damaged.”
Yaz’s eyes widened, and for the first time in two weeks, her hands reached out, grabbing a hold of Sara’s face. The unexpected contact caused Sara’s breath to catch in her throat, as a familiar warmth spread through her chest. She closed her eyes, trying to commit the feeling to memory before it would disappear.
“Sara,” Yaz spoke quietly, an urgency in her voice that made Sara’s eyes flutter open again. “Sara, you are not damaged.”
“But -”
“No,” Yaz spoke firmly.
Sara shook her head, and felt more tears spilling down her cheeks, over Yaz’s hands, silently falling to the floor.
“But you don’t want me anymore.”
— -
The words were like a knife, pushed deep inside of her gut, then twisted, before slowly being pulled out, leaving an icy cold behind as Yaz’s hands dropped and her face turned numb.
“Sariel,” she whispered. “Sariel, I love you.”
She watched as Sara’s eyes grew wide, confusion spreading over her face a moment later.
“I don’t understand,” the blonde said.
“It’s my fault,” Yaz replied, finally letting the words that had been eating away at her leave her mouth. “It’s my fault that you were in so much pain. It’s my fault that you will probably feel like that again, because you lost your wings for me . If I hadn’t been so selfish, if I hadn’t wanted you here with me so badly, if I -”
She stopped, unable to go on. A heavy silence settled between them, filled to the brim with unspoken words.
Finally, she felt Sara’s hands cover her own, and she looked back up into the woman’s eyes.
“Yaz, you didn’t force me into my choices,” the blonde said softly. “ I made them. And I would do everything exactly the same all over again if it meant that in the end, I would get to be with you.”
“But your wings -”
Sara shook her head, interrupting Yaz mid-sentence.
“I miss them, yes. And it will probably always hurt that they’re gone. But Yaz, what I’ve lost doesn’t compare in the slightest to what I’ve gained.”
Now it was Yaz who shook her head, refusing to believe the other woman’s words.
“You lost heaven .”
And then Sara smiled, that kind, honest smile that had made Yaz fall in love with her in the first place.
“I love you, Yasmin Khan. I love you more than I could ever love anything else, and I had fallen for you long before I fell from heaven.”
And when the words left Sara’s lips, Yaz knew that they were true.
— -
Sara hadn’t sung since the morning she had woken up in pain, but that night, as she held Yasmin in her arms, their naked bodies melting into each other like they had been cast in the same mould, she opened her mouth and let the melodies fly.
She imagined that the sounds would flutter through the air, crossing over and under each other in a delicate pattern until they had woven the most gentle cloth, wrapping around Yaz until she was safe from any harm that could ever fall upon her.
Maybe this could become her wings instead.
— -
“Yasmin! Yasmin!”
Yaz had barely walked through the door and she was already surrounded by a good dozen or so children, pulling at her sweater, faces red and eyes shining.
“Yes?” she asked, smiling as she saw the excitement surrounding her.
“Sara,” one of the boys said, a reverent look on his face. “Her voice is so beautiful.”
“It is,” one of the girls on Yaz’s left shouted.
“I want to sing like that one day,” another girl added, and then a boy to her right: “She sounds like an angel.”
Yaz couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face as she looked up, her eyes finding Sara’s at the other end of the room, who blushed as she cleared her sheet music away from the piano.
“That she does,” she replied, her eyes never leaving Sara.
On the days when it hurt too much, they had settled into a new routine.
Yaz carrying Sara with her through the flat.
Sara in Yaz’s arms, listening to her voice as she read to her.
Yaz telling her that she would always love her, no matter what.
“We will be alright,” Yaz thought as Sara walked up to her, leaving a soft kiss on her lips before taking her hand.
And as the words crossed her mind, she knew that they were true.