His wings were pure white, and soft as goose down. They were fluffy and large, and hung behind him as a constant reminder of what he was.
An angel on Earth.
He hadn’t meant to fall in love. He never meant to find the boy with the bright blue eyes and curls.
But find him he had. In a thunderstorm in the middle of a road where the puddles were knee deep and the cornfields cried in the wind.
The boy was so lost, and angry, barefoot in the water with his eyes cast toward heaven. Pleading with the Lord for mercy on his soul, for forgiveness and a life free of pain.
Lance perched himself on the fence near the road and watched as the boy’s tears mixed with the raindrops. It ripped at his heart to see such suffering. And while he was part human, the angel in him argued restraint.
Something in the way the boy dropped to his knees caused Lance’s wings to twitch with apprehension. And when he saw the boy pull the knife from his pocket, his heart dropped. The silver of the blade blinded Lance’s pale eyes, and he winced from the sharpness of the glare. A shot straight to his soul, burning him with the lure of the devil.
His mind told him to let the boy go...turn and walk away. Say a prayer over his tormented body but let fate take her path. His body refused to move from the wooden post, however, and he wrestled with his human emotions.
Lance watched as the boy howled in repressed pain, and his eyes widened as the boy lifted the knife and sobbed names Lance didn’t recognize. The glint of the blade seared his eyes once more, and before he could think any further, he flew from his post and landed in the puddle beside the boy.
“Please don’t,” Lance said in a hushed tone.
The voice startled the boy and he dropped the knife, the plop so prominent, it sent water splashing back up at them.
“What are you?” the boy squawked and slid back into the puddle on his backside, rubbing the water from his eyes.
Thunder clapped overhead, and Lance wondered how badly he would be reprimanded for breaking the rules. But this boy. His eyes were terribly sad and desperate. And young. So very young.
Lance glanced up to the heavens as lightning flashed, a warning perhaps for him to back away and let destiny have her way with the lost soul.
But he shook the rain from his wings and inched forward, his eyes drifting over the boy with the bare feet and waterlogged jeans. The thin white tee shirt he wore soaked, clinging to his body unmercifully. He witnessed the gooseflesh creep over the boy’s body and leaned forward, spreading his wings.
“Come under my wings,” Lance said motioning for the drenched figure to come to him.
But the boy shook his head and backed away, trembling as his hands scraped along the pavement, out of the deep puddle. Fear embedded in the blue eyes that faced him, and Lance retreated a bit as another bolt of lightning crackled down at them. It hit the road mere inches from them, and Lance knew it was a warning.
But he couldn’t drag his heart away. Or his body.
“Come with me,” he insisted, stumbling to his feet. Lance extended his hand and squinted toward the sky. “Please. I won’t hurt you.”
“What are you?” the boy asked, wiping his face with a shaky hand. “You have wings and...”
“We don’t have time,” Lance said, as thunder rolled along. “Fate has made her mark on you and if you don’t come with me, I can’t help you.”
The boy scowled and stood. “I didn’t ask you to help me.”
Lance winced as the harsh words fell toward him, and more razor sharp splits crackled from the heavens. “I know,” he said softly, stepping back. His eyes blinked and his blonde hair fell across his forehead with each pelt of rain that slapped at him. “I see some pain behind your eyes. A deep pain that made you want to end your life on this day.”
The boy’s mouth dropped open and Lance nodded sadly. “I can see things,” he said simply. “And you are special. I want to know more.” Lance was intrigued, and he longed to scoop the boy up in his arms to fly him away.
Only that was *really* against the rules and his wings would surely be taken away for that. So he settled for flapping his wings a little, to brush the droplets of rain from them, and study the boy with a compassionate glance.
“Do you want me to leave you?” Lance queried, because the boy was already so conflicted. And the knife was buried in the mud. Pretty safe he figured.
He hoped.
“I don’t know,” the boy said quietly. And once again, Lance felt the tow at his heart. At his very being. Because this boy was in need of acceptance and love. “It doesn’t matter.” His voice was so soft, so breakable and timid.
“I can stay,” Lance said, and the rain fell harder, in some mild form of punishment he assumed. “I can walk you back home or ...”
“You don’t know me,” the boy said abruptly, holding out his arms. Lance’s hand fell across his chest as he stared at the scars that littered the boy’s flesh. Slash marks. Sign of desperation. Of misunderstanding and aloneness.
And Lance knew he could help. Slowly his hand fell from his heart and he reached out to touch, to trace the welts of the boy’s skin with his fingertips. He smiled as his thumbs brushed over the boy’s pulse points. “You’re heart beats with a thousand angels faith. And they call you Justin, right?”
“How?”
Lance blinked the water from his eyes and wiped a stray tear from under Justin’s eye. “I’m part angel,” he said as more thunder cursed at him. “And I am refusing to accept your fate for this day.”
“This can’t be,” Justin stammered as lightning nipped at their heels. “Angels aren’t real.” He snatched his hands away and turned.
Breaking Lance’s heart a little more. His wings fluttered nervously and he bit his lip in concentration. To give up his wings for a troubled stranger.
It might destroy procedure and paths. A future that was well planned. As the sky opened, Lance took his chance and dove forward, wrapping his arms around Justin. “You’re in anguish,” he whispered, scooping the boy up as his wings flapped. “And I’m not going to accept this for you.”
Watery eyes fell toward him, and Lance saw some shard of hope push through the turbulent center. He flew away from the puddles and the warning bolts. Away from the agony. His heart sang clearly as he cradled Justin in his arms and flew with melody in his mind.
Light as air, he soared over the fields even as the storm bit at him. His wings fluttered faster and he felt the wrath trying to swallow his disobedient behavior.
“You’re so beautiful,” Justin murmured into Lance’s ear, and Lance felt Justin’s grip tighten around him. He felt the pain breaking away, flaking off as they ascended higher and higher. “I never knew life could feel so peaceful.”
“To kill yourself is a sin,” Lance said, and he flinched as a bolt of angry light took aim at his left wing. “To live is harder,” he whimpered as his feathers crisped under the heat. “To fight for what God’s given you. That’s the challenge.”
“My family hates me,” Justin cried, burning his face in the crook of Lance’s neck. “I’m an abomination to them. A sinner. A nothing who’s only around for my father’s wicked pleasure. He likes to whip me. He likes to call me names and break me down. He had the first boy I ever kissed killed, Angel. Beat him until his life was gone.”
Lance ducked as more lightning aimed at him, and he nearly lost Justin as he dipped down. “Your father is the evil one, Justin,” Lance said breathlessly. “His time will come. But yours. I refuse to give you to the devil.”
Thunder roared in Lance’s ears and he tried to speed up, but his wing was badly damaged. It wasn’t yielding in any way, and he realized his wings would be taken.
Spying a shack just off the road, Lance flew with what he had left. And pleaded that he could save this boy. Ply him with honesty and love. Show him the purity and goodness that life was supposed to be. He needed nothing to let him know this was right, and losing his wings would be a pain worse than anything he could imagine, but it was for something higher.
Something greater.
To capture the heart of a boy who needed to be loved more than he needed air to breathe or water to drink.
The second crack of lightning seared his right wing, cauterizing it at the joint. Lance howled in pain as his precious appendage divided from his shoulder blade and fell lifelessly to the Earth below. Justin fell from his arms as pain wound around his body, and his left wing tried in vain to sustain him.
But the agony embedded viciously, ripping at his flesh, boiling his blood and Lance used his hand to rub at the wound. There was no blood, a clean tear with a few feathers drifting down toward the soil. And he sobbed for the loss. His eyes reddened as he saw Justin toppled into a soft, wet pile of hay. Casting his face toward heaven, he threw his hands out.
“Why?” he screamed. “Why?”
The sky ripped open once more, and another bolt caught his remaining wing, slicing it off unmercifully. Sorrow ricocheted around, uncontrollable misery that sent tears flowing freely down his cheeks. With nothing to hold him, his body tumbled down to the hay.
“Angel!” Justin yelped, scrambling to Lance’s side. “Oh Angel!”
“It’s okay.” Lance forced a smile through his tears as the rain washed over them. “I see what I’m to do.” His face contorted and his lip trembled, but he reached out to touch Justin’s face. “I’ve done what I needed to do.”
Justin touched the tender flesh and shuddered. “For me?”
Lance nodded and sniffled as the rain subsided. “For what you’re supposed to have in this life Justin.”
“For me?” Justin said again, his voice cracking.
Lance rolled over, hoping to alleviate some of the horrific pain rocketing through his body. “You’ve never been shown love,” he said. “And I want to show you love now.”
“But your wings.” Justin crawled over and stared at Lance with unsure eyes. “Angel..”
“Lance.”
“What?”
“My name. Lance. I’m no longer an angel. I’m human.”
Justin sniffled as the sun broke through, and Lance squinted as the sun warmed them. Through the haze, a rainbow unfolded, spreading vibrancy arcing across the sky.
Lance’s pain recoiled with each passing moment, and he lay very still as he stared up into Justin’s heavenly eyes.
“Lance,” Justin whispered. “Lance.”
“Yes?” Lance laughed a little and reached up to stroke Justin’s damp cheek. “Yes Justin?”
“Thank you.” Justin said, dropping down over Lance’s body. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Lance whispered, threading his fingers through Justin’s curls. “Because this is love. True and pure. Being an angel means little if I can’t save. If I have to sit back and watch sadness like I saw in your eyes. Fate and destiny have their rules. This is true. But I feel with my heart.” He placed Justin’s hand over his heart and smiled. “And my heart says we were meant to meet. And I was meant to fall from grace into your arms.”
“And I was meant to feel like this,” Justin whispered back. “Like I understand and see.” His eyes cleared and the sun cradled his curls.
And in the sunlight, Lance swore he saw a halo over those curls.
One hand for the other. An exchange to supercede heaven and earth. A joining of souls and lives. Intertwined for eternity.
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