Unexpected feelings
The perfume of thousands of coloured flowers was quickly spread by the wind in that open green field, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. In there, a beautiful auburn lady looked around her with a contented smile upon her meek face. Barefoot, wearing a long flowered skirt and a white sleeveless shirt, Monica was holding a roll of white line in her hands and watching as a tall, handsome man, with short blond hair and bright green eyes, took some distance from her holding a colourful kite.
“I guess this is enough,” Andrew shouted, and his dearest friend nodded her head.
“Okay!”
The blond angel let the kite go with the wind and watched it, hiding his amusement as Monica clumsily tried to keep it flying up in the air. A minute later, though, the kite fell on the green grass for the third time on that morning.
“I’ll never get it, Andrew!” Monica sighed with some discouragement. Andrew was quick to come to her side and, with a tender look in his eyes, he took some strands of hair from her face. “All you need is practice, angel. I’ve seen humans trying to do it and they don’t get it in the first attempt.”
The Irish angel looked at him and her heart was immediately filled with so much love and joy that she let go of her previous frustration. Of course flying a kite wasn’t a big deal but only a little bit of fun during the angels’ day off. What amazed her was his ability to always soothe her heart and the sudden sensation of happiness he managed to bring whenever they were together. And even being apart, the memory of his kind and compassionate eyes looking at her and of his arms wide open ready to hold her were a way to warm her soul until the day they could meet again.
“I know...” she replied, somewhat sheepishly, “It’s just that I wanted to do it right, it seems to be a lot of fun, you know.”
“I’ll tell you what: this time, I’ll stay here holding the line and you hold the kite and let it go with the wind, ok?”
“I guess we have a deal then!” she replied, her Irish lilt filling in the air. The broad smile upon her face always fascinated him: it was impressive how the simplest things were enough to make her happy. He loved her kind and sweet manners and the childlike innocence with which she saw the world. Being an angel of death sometimes meant dealing with the most horrible side of human beings and, frequently, Andrew’s assignments caused his heart to be filled with sorrow and even with anger. Monica’s presence was like a warm safe place where he could run when sadness was too much to bear; a breathe of fresh air that would always bring relief and reassurance to his soul.
He watched with contentment as she took some distance holding the kite in her hands. “I’m ready, Andrew!” the Irish angel shouted, with the excitement of a ten-year-old. With ability, he finally managed to make the object fly up in the bright blue sky. Monica ran to his side and both angels watched as the kite danced with the wind.
“Now it’s your turn!” he said, passing her the line and brushing a tiny kiss on her cheek. They spent hours in that flowered field, and Monica’s laugher, as well as the joy evident in her face, went straight to Andrew’s heart, and he was sure he would never get tired of looking at her or hearing her voice.
At the end of the day, the two angels sat under an old oak tree and leaning against its trunk, they watched the orange coloured sunset.
“This is so beautiful...” Monica sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder and feeling his arm around her own shoulders.
“It is, angel. But sharing the Father's creation with a dear friend makes it even more special, you know?”
She raised her head and looked at his handsome face; the sight of his dishevelled blond hair and sparkling green eyes combined with his strong masculine features suddenly caused her to feel butterflies in her stomach, a mix of pure joy and excitement for being so close to him and to hear the beautiful things he always had to say to her.
Monica reached up and gently caressed his cheek. “This day was wonderful, Andrew. And it was thanks to you.” She said, with all the emotion that unexpected feeling could produce.
With all the love in the world evident in his eyes, the blond angel gently stroked her face and smiled, “You don’t have anything to thank me for, Monica; being with you is... is like a present from God.”
He tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer to him, in a way that now she could rest her head on his chest and listen to his steady heart beats. The blond angel kissed the top of her head repeatedly and then buried his face in her auburn hair, inebriated with the sweetness of her perfume.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she too held him tightly, secretly wishing that that moment were frozen in time. “It feels so perfect...” the Irish angel finally spoke, and closed her eyes afterwards.
A smile appeared on Andrew’s lips and the joy for having Monica in his arms was such that he felt a lump forming in his throat. That sensation was new and strange, but at the same time it brought him so much peace and joy that he felt like holding her forever. “It really does...”
The two angels snuggled comfortably against each other and remained there, in silence. But both kept on secretly wondering where those feelings were coming from. It was as if the love they had always felt for each other had grown even more.
And just to think of it, God forbid, was enough to fill their hearts with the greatest happiness they had ever experienced.
To be continued