"A seraphim." Daimon spoke, thoughtfully. "It's a four-winged guardian, not a messenger, protecting the way to life. The one who communes closest to God. But it seems you look like you have fallen."
His words were like a sharp stab to my heart, ripping open an old wound and making me understand what that meant. A purposeful step out of grace. I shook his words out of my head, my heart, and body. I threw it out, shutting down every feeling that bubbled out of that wound.
Daimon twirled the feather that was as long as his forearm, "I wonder what you would look like in white."
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I snapped. My teeth are grinding, annoyed.
"I do."
I froze at the unexpected answer.
Daimon brought up the feather under the light. "Though, what's interesting about this feather is that it is not black at all."
"I'm sorry?He stumped me with what he said. It looked jet-black to me.
"It's dark blue." The sheen of the light gave the jet-black feather a hue of dark blue.
My eyes became wide like saucers, shocked. That's not possible; no black wings have a dark blue color to them. Was it black at all? I was stepping into an unknown territory; why was it dark blue? All I have been told is that there have been two prominent colors since I was young: white and black. That's it. No blue or pink or whatever color that I didn't know about.
Daimon then called out to Henry, "Make sure you catch the dark blue sheen on the wings."
"Will do, Mr. Regis."
"Can I have that feather?" I asked, a bit too soft, but I was sure Daimon heard it.
"No. I funded it." Daimon pocketed it as if it were his.
Uh, no, he didn't. I looked over in the direction where his fake wings were. Those he paid for, not these babies on my back. My back straightened, I stood up taller. With each step, the heels I was given clicked, and I swayed my hips as I turned from him and walked to where Eric stood. My wings trailing behind like a long dress. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as no more feathers hit the ground. I don't need another person having another feather.
This time, we were outside. Eric was sitting inside, looking out the window. While someone gave me the task to lie on top of the bullet train. I climbed up, getting to the top. Pulling myself over the top, I leaned down onto my stomach.I opened my wings, making it look like they were draping over the train.
"You're doing great, Mrs. Gibbons!" Henry yelled. "If you could gaze down at Eric as if you are remembering a beautiful time!"
I chuckled, remembering a beautiful time. Those were easy. My gaze drifted, my memories replaying the moments of my family. The beautiful laughter that rang in my head of my mother coaxing my father to wear a full teddy bear costume. He would laugh and dance in front of my mother to get a smile out of her lips.
An unconscious smile graced my lips. My eyes drifted, closing as distinct memories played. All beautiful, every single one warm. I am thankful for the memories my parents gave me. The sweet times that I can go back to and relive over and over again. Would I call it an escape? Yes.
"Ms. Gibbons!-" someone called out my name.
"Ms. Gibbons!" Henry's voice shouted, waking me up.
I blinked a few times, yawning. Stretching, giving my wings a gentle shake. My black hair spilled down the front as I crossed my arms in front of me as I rested it.
"Yes?" I said in a half-sleepy voice, which was like a sweet siren sound to the surrounding people. Everyone froze, gazing up enthralled.
Lazily, like a cat, my attention went from one person to another. My attention rested on Daimon, whose gaze locked onto mine. Still and silent as a statue, observing like a predator watching a prey.
Eric coughed; he was next to me, attempting to sit next to me. "Could you move those wings?"
"Hmm?" I turned toward Eric; his breath hitched. "Oh, you're coming up. Give me a moment," I pushed up and brought my feet forward, dangling my legs. It took everything out of me not to flutter my wings open and close. Instead, I reached back, pushing it away for Eric to come over and take a seat.
"Wow, I didn't think the view up here would be different."
"It's not too bad." I leaned back on my hand. "You should see what it's like to sit on the edge on top of a skyscraper."
"On top of a skyscraper," he snapped toward me in horror.
"Yeah, the view is beautiful, something words can not describe."
"I prefer the ground, thank you very much," said Eric.
"The fear of heights is a real thing, so I understand," I chuckled
"I'm not ashamed to say I do fear heights."
"That good to know your fears."
"It wouldn't be the case if I was not afraid of anything. It would be considered a lie." Eric got comfortable, letting one of his legs cross in front of him. "I suggest you lean towards me; the next photoshoot will be more of a love scene."
I nodded, scooting over. My wings felt uncomfortable, squishing to one side. "Could you, you know, move my wings around you?" That stupid ache of keeping it in one place at weird angles was making my shoulders ache.
Eric reached over, pulling my wings out over his shoulders, which would drape on him. "Wow, this feels so real. It's so soft."
"Thanks."
"Huh?"
"They did a great job of it."
"I agree. I would like to take one of these feathers."
"No!" I blurted out. "Let's not ruin the nice prop."
"Fine, but after this shoot, I'm going to take a feather home with me. I saw Daimon has one, and I'm taking one for my collection."
My mouth became thin. Nope. Nope. Nope. I will make sure not to take any more feathers today! Fate be damned, these babies are going right back in when we leave this place.
"That is great!" Henry called out with excitement. "Wow, these shots will be a hit!"
The shutters of the camera clicking and flashing went off.
"He doesn't look too happy," Eric chuckled, "I never seen him so restless."
"Who?" I leaned in closer, whispering to him.
"Daimon," Eric leaned in. He sniffed, shuddered, putting a bit of his body closer. My black hair tickled his arm, which he touched the very ends of. Rubbing it together, enjoying the feel.
"What's eating him?" Curiously, I observed him. Daimon was standing next to Henry, watching both of us. A cold, oppressive air surrounded him. He shifted, arms crossed, as his three-piece suit made him. His hand raised, pushing back his slick golden hair.
"Wouldn't you like to know, darling?"
I flinched as he whispered that in my ear. I flinched as if scalded, pulling back and glaring at him while my hand shot up to my ears. "Please don't do that."
"It's sensitive," Eric said with enjoyment. His eyes blazed, a warning I couldn't decipher, as if a single misstep would provoke an attack.
I didn't like where this was going; I looked down. With a push of an arm, I jumped down. My wings spread out, cushioning my fall. I landed, and the thump of my wings followed. There was no way I'm going to stay around him; it was too dangerous.
Looking up, I noticed black shoes. Curious, I trailed upward, standing up. "Um…?"
Daimon's piercing gaze stared at me.
"Mr. Regis!" Henry called out, appearing next to Daimon. "I recommend that you take part in the photoshoot." There was excitement in his voice, and he was eager bantering off the pros and cons of joining the project.
I turned him out. My head was twirling with questions: why was he here, just staring at me without words? Was there something on my face? Did I do something wrong to the CEO?
"Alright," Daimon spoke.
"Huh?" I blurted.
"I'll join. What do I have to do?" Daimon turned his attention to Henry.
"Wonderful!" Henry clapped his hands together. "We should have you inside and take a picture on one of the sofa chairs." He said, motioning both of us to follow.
Eric jumped off and landed without difficulty. "What about me?"
"We'll have you in a moment; for now, we'll focus on a unique concept for Mr. Regis." Henry rattled off many ideas and poses, directing both Daimon and me.
Daimon sat inside the V.I.P section of the bullet train. In one room, he sat down with his knees crossed.
"Ms. Gibbons, please stand behind Mr. Regis and wrap your arms around his shoulders."
"Excuse me?" I squeaked. He wants me to wrap my arms around this stiff piece of ice? I would freeze to death or worse, he would throw me across the room and I would die. What kind of hellish challenge is he trying to give me?
"Mr. Regis, is it okay for this shoot, correct?" Henry asked, hope in his eyes.
"Yes."
"There we go, Ms. Gibbons. Chop chop. We have to get those pictures ready for you sooner than later."
My mouth opened and closed. I never imagined that today I would be doing photoshoots for a company in my wings, and posing or hugging either of the CEOs. Hell with this. I straightened up, taking my best foot forward, I walked over. We got this. I got this! Sweat drenched my hand.
I stood behind Daimon, who seemed way more relaxed than I thought. Wasn't he uncomfortable? I wondered, but then again he had women falling on his lap left and right, so this kind of photoshoot for business.
"Okay, Ms. Gibbons! Pretend that you are protecting him! Also, please wrap your wings around him," Henry spoke.
I pretend to reach for my wings, bringing them over, wrapping the bottom two wings draped around him like a cloak, while the top is opened.
"Excuse me, Mr. Regis. My apologies if I make you uncomfortable." I spoke. "Please bear with me; we will get through this." I huffed, wrapping my arms around his neck, leaning forward. My head was a few inches from his face.
I marveled at his skin. After the shave hit my nose, followed by his woodsy smell mixed with blueberry, tickled my nose. This man smelled delicious, reminding me of blueberry muffins. My favorite.
My heart pounded in my throat. This wasn't easy. I wanted to bolt out of these uncomfortable positions as quickly as possible. I needed to think of someone I wished I could have protected. My memories raced, coming to one.I imagine my father. His gentle smile and his unending love. His smile and his gentle pat on my head, telling me gentle words. My whole body relaxed, and it sagged into the hug.
My head rested on his shoulder. My arms, tightening, and my wings relaxed. It had a lazy feel to it, and I breathed.
Every breath I took made Daimon flinch. He remained silent; Flashes of light blared off.
Again, I felt a gentle touch on my right lower wing that was wrapped around him. He rubbed in. My mind snapped to attention, doing my best not to break my expression. This man! He touches things that aren't his.
"Perfect!" Henry replied. "Ms. Gibbons, please move to his left side and sit on the armrest. Move the right wing, wrapping it around him."
I pulled back; I felt one of my feathers detach itself. No way. This time, a feather detached from my flight feathers.
My hand balled up, I took a seat on the armchair. Pretending to move my right wing around his shoulder, I leaned toward him.
"At the rate you're plucking the feathers, you'll make me flightless." I whispered. "Please keep your fingers to yourself. These feathers are expensive props, and having patches in the wing would look terrible for the photoshoot."
Why God? Why?! Three feathers in two days. Two days! On the same man! I chortled in my head. Someone took one feather off my shoulder, and plucked off the other two. Heck, these feathers don't detach themselves; I have loose feathers. The question is, what or who was he going to go to war for? Does this man have so many enemies?
Daimon chuckled. "I paid for these."
No, you didn't! I spat in my head. Those are authentic feathers!
"One still needs to take care of it and pulling them off destroys the quality of the wings."
"Then I paid for an inferior product. I asked for the best."
I wanted to punch him.
"These feathers are the best. The highest quality feathers you can't find anywhere in the world. A single touch is softer than a downy feather; it never degrades unless fire touches it. Perfectly waterproof, and comes with one unique color you can't find anywhere in the world."
"It seems you know your product as if you bought it yourself."
I couldn't help but be silent. Did I expose myself?
"I know feathers," I replied as casually as I could. "Bird feathers are my specialty, and the feather you hold would have a close resemblance to a harpy eagle."
"Oh?" Daimon brought up the feather, twirling his fingers. "They have claws the size of a bear and are one of the most powerful birds of prey."
"You know your birds."
"I studied them when I was a kid. They don't have these colored feathers though."
I didn't reply. Instead, I pulled back. Resting my hand on his shoulder as I stared at the camera. We continued our photoshoot in different settings, areas, and places on the train. We ended.
With quick steps, I went straight to the area where I had left the wings. I went behind the crate, allowing the wings to shrink. Leaving behind a bare back, where my hair covered it. I grabbed the tarp, moving it away. I pulled the fake wings, carrying it with me over my shoulders.
I stepped out and walked toward Henry, Eric, and Daimon, who were talking amongst themselves.
Eric glanced up, noticing me. "You guys looked amazing. Heck, those wings fit you. Please wear it to the party. You would be a hit, and we can advertise the concept to our business partners."
"I wasn't thinking about-"
Eric raised his hand, resting his fingers on my lips. "Please. It would do us the honor."
"Eric," Daimon replied. He still had the feather in his hand, twirling it a few times.
"What?" Eric's finger left my lips. "She looked stunning. Have you ever seen such a concept before? It's like our own personal angel has graced us with her presence. I suggest she wear it, no, it's mandatory, Ms. Gibbons."
"But I work for Mr. Regis."
Eric snapped toward Daimon and with a serious expression, he placed his hand on Eric's shoulder. "Brother, she got to. This is for the company."
"This isn't a good idea." I spoke in a flurry, trying to cut through whatever they were thinking.
Daimon stared, his silence deafening. "It's recommended, Ms. Gibbons."
"But-"
Daimon silenced me without a word. I gulped down my complaint.
"You will be amazing!" Eric threw up his hand. He slung his arm around me like best friends.
I peeled his arm off. He was getting too close and too comfortable. "Mr. Sol, please keep your hands to yourself, or I'm going to sue you for inappropriate conduct." I hissed. That should shut him up and put me in a difficult position.
Eric flinched; he gaped. Straightening up, "My apologies, I did not mean to be inappropriate. I thought we had at least gotten to a friend stage."
"We aren't there yet."
Eric gave a puppy dog frown, "I was hoping we were." He then changed his tune, realizing that his expression wasn't doing anything to me. "But, I am glad to hear that you stated 'yet', meaning we will get there soon."
This guy was relentless.
"You're like a cute, hissy cat. It's adorable. Don't you think so, Daimon?"
"A cat?" That threw me off. I would think of a bird of prey, not a cat.
"Yes," said Daimon.
"Oh my, he agreed. This is hilarious. Daimon, you just made my day. Let's celebrate!"
"Quiet down, Eric. You're giving me a headache with all your chattering," Daimon scrunched his eyebrows, rubbing them.
I couldn't agree with him more. Eric was a force to be reckoned with. Once caught, I felt like I couldn't run away at how persistence he was with what he wanted to say.
"I think I'll head back home." I replied. This was a long day, and I was getting tired.
"But, Sarah. You need food. With all this, we need to relax and enjoy the night."
"When did you guys get on a first-name basis?" Daimon asked.
"Today, are you jealous?" Eric smirked.
Daimon gave him an icy stare, not answering. "I want you to come to the company tomorrow; the rest of the photoshoot will be finished by Eric, and other models will come for the other half. All the information will be sent to you by Henry." He changed the topic and spoke to me.
"Yes, sir. Well, I'll be going now." I replied, turning around to leave. I needed air, and being around them wasn't helping. Almost bolting out of the place, I didn't look back once. My feet blistered, transporting the fake home.