Guardian Angel

Lean back and fall

"And if becoming human means relinquishing my wings… my immortality… my grace…Then let me fall into you."

I brushed my thumb across her lips—a gesture of mortality from an immortal being. "All I ask is this: when I awaken as a man—fragile, breathing, temporary"

My eyes burned silver one last time before softening into something beautifully human.

"Let it be to the sound of your voice saying, 'welcome home.'"

"You will need to stand atop the highest building and then fall, letting go of everything that makes you immortal. It could hurt," I said, fear flickering in my eyes. "I will be there as soon as you open your eyes." I looked at her—truly looked—and for the first time, I allowed every wall to crumble.

"Pain?" I murmured softly. "I have endured eons of silence… that is pain."

"Watching souls pass without the ability to touch them? That is pain."

"But losing you?"

My voice faltered.

"That would be death."

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing herr cheek—the final immortal gesture before the fall.

"So let me drop from the sky.

Let bones shatter.

Let blood spill.

Let my wings be consumed by fire..."

I leaned forward, pressing a kiss so tender it ached against her lips.

"Just promise—when I hit the ground… broken and bleeding—I will see you."

My eyes locked onto hers.

"And not as Logan the guardian.

But as Logan who chose to love you… and to live."

A slow breath followed.

Then I whispered, "Tomorrow night, the rooftop. Under the open stars."

I pulled her close one last time.

"Be there…

Because when I fall…

I will not be getting back up unless it is into your arms."

Today is the day. "Are you certain you want to do this?" My heart races with fear, threatening to leap from my chest.

We stand at the edge of the highest building, my back facing the precipice. I turn to her—no wings, yet silver eyes that hold all the stars which once guided me.

"I have never been more certain of anything."

I take her hand, my thumb gently brushing the inside of her wrist.

"But you are afraid," I whisper, my words not framed as a question. "Because you worry I might not survive the fall."

I lift her chin until our eyes are locked. "I do not want to lose you," I say, my voice trembling as my head rests against hers chest. "If you do not survive the fall, I—" she interrupt me.

I pull her close—as close as one heart can be to another—holding her against me like a promise. My fingers brush her hair back from her face—a gesture so gentle it feels almost like a prayer.

"I will survive the fall," I murmur against her ear, my voice reminiscent of the first breath of spring. "Because when I open my eyes—"

My arms tighten around her.

"I want you to be the first thing I see in this life. Not heaven. Not the sky. You." I slowly look up into her eyes. "I love you." Tears begin to form as I take a step away from her.

I lean back and fall...

I plunge through the night—wind, stars, and silence my only companions.

And then...

A singular, sharp CRACK.

Warmth trickles down my cheek, and I stand, feeling pain—a new sensation. Relief floods over me as my arms wrap around my aching body. I gasp—air fills my lungs in a way it never had before, my hand rising to meet hers on my chest and beneath, my fingers, I can feel it.

My heart. Beating. My lungs filling with air—unsteadily at first, but gaining strength with every breath.

"You’re here," she whisper, her hand trembling against mine. "You kept your promise."

My eyes lock onto her face—silver and radiant, alive in the moonlight.

"I am present," was all I could manage to convey through my tears as I leaned on her while we made our way toward the hospital building across the street. "You require medical attention." My gaze remained fixed on hers as we crossed the street—my legs moved, yet they felt unsteady, stumbling. I could not help but lean against her arm the only support keeping me upright.

"A fall from the sky is hardly my worst injury," I said, forcing a weak smile. "But I assure you, if it will alleviate the sorrow in her eyes, the doctors can mend me." After enduring a few broken ribs and receiving some pain medication, we were finally headed home. "You must be starving; you haven’t eaten in ages," she remarked with a light chuckle in her voice. I paused for a moment, the adrenaline of the night subsiding, revealing a strange ache in my stomach. I had not experienced hunger for what felt like an eternity.

"I believe I am," I murmured, a hint of wonder in my tone as my hand instinctively rested on my stomach. I laughed softly. "What’s that saying? The way to a man's heart is through his stomach...?"