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Loud, vibrant pigments of neon red, green, blue, and yellow all burst like a puff of powder, expanding and splitting, manifesting into him ….
“Tell me your name again?”
Genevieve rested her chin on her palm. Everything seemed glowy and floaty around her.
The colors solidified into a corporeal shape, far too beautiful to be classified as a man.
He cocked his head. There was a glimmer of humor in his gorgeous sunset eyes. And after a moment, he grinned and answered, "Rafayel," with teeth so neat, so tidy, so perfectly pearly white. Genevieve had half a mind to touch it. Maybe count them with the tip of her tongue.
“Mm. Mm-hm. Okay. Rafayel." She gave him a taste. "Like the angel? Are you an angel, then?” With her skull now partially anchored by her palm, Genevieve pushed closer to him. Oh, her head. It felt so swimmingly heavy. So full of him, full of the beautiful, beautiful creature sitting astride her. “Did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?”
The angel snorted. He tossed back his head easily. The sticky, humid air in the room brought about his hair, at least the strands that didn't cling to his forehead in sweat, to dance around like butterflies. Genevieve wouldn’t even be surprised if some fairies were born at the second—the sound of his laugh could heal the world, she thought.
“No, no. It didn’t hurt because I didn’t fall from heaven.”
“Where did you fall from, then?”
“Mmm … here and there,” he said, keeping up with the boyish, playful looks in his handsome features. “I don’t care where I came from as long as I know where I’ll land.”
“And where will that be?”
The mixture of hues, primarily coral and bubble gum, seeped into the smooth skin of his cheekbones. Genevieve reached out, lightly touching them with her thumb because she couldn't resist being drawn to the lights. The man let her. He even caught her wrist and fell deeper into the touch.
Instead, he said cryptically, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Genevieve had no response to that. So, she simply stared.
A soul this ethereal with a name like that.
Rafayel was unquestionably a creation that had descended from the sky.
“Have you ever …?"
“Hmm?”
“Has someone ever hunted you down to put you in a museum or something?” She muttered lowly. She felt intoxicated. It was like someone had spiked her drinks with a love potion. There was no way she could fall in love at first sight with a stranger like this if not for that. “Because you should be worried since I … I might—” She sighed like battling the biggest battle of morals in her conscience, “—might want you and steal you away and put you in my house. Might … keep you forever.”
But in contrast to her dilemma, the beautiful creature laughed. Ha ha ha ha, so crisp, so pretty—even his laughter sounded sophisticated. Suddenly, she got a desperate urge to put her lips on his lips right here, right now, just to shut him up, make him stop laughing at her because: Hey! She was serious! She wanted him to look at her and only at her!
“What a scary threat, cutie,” he said. “But you can always say the words and I’ll stay at your house forever.”
At that point, Genevieve felt like something was punched out of her. Air out of her lungs.
She was empty, a hollow space now, just for him to fill anew.
“Really? You’ll go home with me if I ask nicely?”
“Yup. Easy, isn't it?”
Genevieve blinked twice, finally sure that she had fallen head over heels. Lovestruck and incurable. She grasped the angel's hand and held him firmly between her clasps. Her falling star eyes, deep blue and golden, looked up at him, pleading, glittering with a wish of a lifetime.
“Then … let’s go home? Do you want to go home with me?”
The gorgeous man laughed again. Loud and satisfied this time, he moved forward and planted a small peck on Genevieve’s right cheek. He grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her to the exit.
“Yeah, baby. Let’s go. You’ve drank too much. It’s getting too dangerous for me, too.”