into the black and be lost forever.”
The sun continues to rise.
a knock at the door He’s dying.
Ever since that night on the roof, weeks before, I haven’t been able to think of much else besides blood dripping down Cal’s wrist, the nail jutting from his skin, the curiosity on his face as he felt physical pain for what had to be the first time. Even pressed against me, his lips near my ear as he told me what would happen if he stayed, he seemed to be more worried about me than himself.
“You have to go back,” I choked out. I wanted nothing less in the world, but it seemed to be the only way.
“No,” he said, his dark eyes flashing. “I will not leave you.”
“But—”
“Enough, Benji.”
But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. How could it be? I was angry that he could be so selfish as to allow me to watch him to die, knowing everything I had been through. I had nowhere near recovered from the loss of my father and he was expecting me to go through that again? The bastard. How dare he? I was drowning in a fucking river that he was still attempting to save me from, and he was telling me he was going to push me back in and hold me under. My father’s death had nearly destroyed me. Cal’s death would finish me.
This, of course, led to the question of how Calliel, after such a short amount of time, could mean as much to me as Big Eddie did. That was the question I didn’t know if I wanted answers to. It’s easier to ignore what’s in your heart if you pretend it won’t hurt you in the end. But even I knew that was a lie I used to placate myself.
I watched for signs of Cal weakening, of humanity springing forth and leaving his angelic side behind. I stayed awake long into those nights, lying against his chest, listening to his heart beat against my ear, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. Aside from the nail in his hand and the blood from it, there was nothing else. He looked the same; he sounded the same. He tasted the same.
In those weeks leading up to the festival, no threads called to him, no reasons to leave my side. Again I wondered if it was because he was already more human than angel and had been cut off from God, or if he had been replaced by a new angel who was watching over Roseland. I listened for gossip to spread like wildfire, but heard nothing unusual. There were other rumors, of course. Rumors about me that I overheard at the diner. Rumors I overheard while shopping at Clark’s on my day off, Cal at my side, dropping box after box of Lucky Charms into the basket (“I think I am just going to take all the green clovers out of each box and put them into one box so I can have a box of just green clovers.”) These rumors were accompanied by furtive glances at us. No one seemed quite sure how we had met. Sometimes these questions were asked to others, sometimes they were asked, almost shyly, to me. He was just passing through town, I told them. He decided to stay a while (“Not so much passing as falling,” Cal would tell me later, a grin on his face).
Most spoke of the fact that Cal lived with me and that each of us was rarely seen without the other. It’s good for Benji, they said. He’s been such a loner ever since Big Eddie passed, God rest his soul. It’s nice to see him smile again. So they shacked up quickly. When you know, you know.
But I didn’t know. I didn’t know at all.
People loved him, though. If he left the store without me, he’d be mobbed almost instantly by people who just happened to be walking by the station. Cal! they’d exclaim. What a surprise to see you! What are you up to? Oh, well I don’t mind walking with you since I was heading that direction anyway! Then they’d wave at me through the glass almost as an afterthought, and I’d roll my eyes as Cal turned back to me with a grin, the worry not quite leaving his eyes. If he did leave my side, it was only for a few moments, and only because I practically shoved