Page 19 of Falling for Famine
Maybe their hesitation came because I’d also been challenged by several angels in the area. One even claimed I was better off letting the soul die at her hand so Nomi could find eternal happiness in Heaven.
“If you don’t want the world to end like I suspect you don’t, Limos, let the human go quietly. Let her find eternal peace. I’ll be kind, I promise. Gentle. This one…she deserves it the most,”she said.
Her words struck something inside me. It burrowed and burned. The feeling nagged at me since hearing the angel’s words, an eruption of intensity that consumed my insides, but the angel quickly retreated when she realized how determined I was to protect the mortal.
Nomi went about her normal routine, reserving most of the day to stay by the side of her loved one at the place she called a bakery café. Then she spent the evenings having dinner with him at his home. He’d often grumble at her every time she’dinsist on cooking and staying, but the happiness that softened his expression couldn’t be missed.
His affection for her was as vibrant as hers was.
She left her apartment early and returned late, having asserted that the meowing creature she fussed over stay with the aged mortal for a time. Who had quite the noisy creature himself, the pudgy thing always on some crusade to attack shadows and defend its master despite falling on its face more than once in its attempts to do so.
After a week, the long days and late nights had weighed on her. She was withering away. She barely ate, even when she made it her mission to fuss over the other human and his lack of eating.
The only time Nomi returned to her home was to write letters and for a couple hours of fitful sleep. I’d noticed it the second night, how her dreams plagued her. When I lied next to her and stroked her skin, the fits calmed and her fear eased. I’d taken to it every night since, going right to her side the second her breaths evened out.
The letters she wrote had grown over the week, nearly enough to fill a shoebox. She kept them safely tucked away as if she worried someone might discover them, and she never let me watch her compose a single one. She always told me to relax and play whatever games she had, then hid away in her room.
One staggering change I noted was how much space she kept between us. When I’d lean in close, she’d retreat. When I’d sit next to her, she’d get up and find something to do. I’d thought at first she was uncomfortable, but the more time I spent with her, the more I realized that it was an intentional effort to put distance between us.
And…it bothered me.
The nights I lied next to her were the closest we ever got, and I was eager for them. I’d nearly forgotten what I was meant to be doing. Finding Ares. In another few days, it’d be safe to track andfollow Michael. The minute I had a location to trace, I needed to leave.
I peered at the room, having paused my game. I found so little joy in doing anything that wasn’t watching her that I’d only played to keep up appearances. I sensed her scratching away at the usual paper, her soft voice reading back the words she’d written.
Standing, I eyed the kitchen. Nomi liked to drink coffee and eat sweets. She’d brought some home from Felix’s earlier. They sat on the counter next to the machine I’d watched her make her favorite drink in several times.
Spiriting over to it, I fiddled with the buttons and got the black liquid pouring the way I’d seen her do. After it was done, I made the cup exactly how she did every morning. I put in cream and sugar, then plated the brown pastry she called a strawberry croissant.
I’d never much cared for humans or their food before meeting her. I hadn’t bothered to pay attention to anything unless I was spoiling it to bring about a scheduled famine. But I’d noticed a lot over the last week. She was especially fond of these.
She hadn’t let me eat anything from her hand since the treat she called a cookie and the dinner she’d fed me with a fork. I’d tried a few things here and there, but nothing tasted as good as it had when she fed it to me. I was convinced the same was true for her. She’d eaten so well when I fed her the stir-fry, and I wanted to see her consume this the same way.
She needed to eat.
Determined, I collected the plate and cup and headed for her room. As I strolled inside, her head popped up in confusion. Her blue hair was tied up into a messy bun, and I had the strangest urge to remove the hair tie that held it all together and run my fingers through the silky tresses. Instead, I crouched, put the cup on her desk, and lifted the croissant to her lips.
Her eyes dropped to it in surprise. “Oh, um, thank you. I can eat it myself.”
I didn’t put it down. I brought it closer to her mouth, waiting for her to take a bite. It made me oddly satisfied to feed her, and she’d been eating so little. I wouldn’t let her dismiss me tonight.
Her eyes narrowed, but instead of arguing again, she leaned forward and took a bite. A particularly desperate noise wanted to flee my mouth as her eyes closed and she basked in the taste of it. “Ah, Felix, that genius.”
She went to grab the pastry from my hand, but I pulled it out of reach. Her lips pursed and mine twitched. Something bubbled in my throat, but I swallowed it down. It always amused me when she made a frustrated sound at something I did.
“What is this? Are you being a brat, Ghost?”
When had that nickname become something I wished to hear from her as often as she was willing to say it? When had hearing it threaten to make me smile as intensely as she scowled?
I stared at her before canting my head and lifting the croissant to her mouth again. Sighing loudly, she took another bite and chewed. A bit of white powder clung to her lips. I set the pastry down, and she hummed as if she was happy I had, until I was wiping her mouth with my thumb.
She froze before trying to pull her head back. She wanted to distance herself again. The way her face went lax before tightening, as though catching herself in an unintentional act, was exactly how it happened every time. She was reminding herself we shouldn’t touch.
The feeling in my chest was back as I firmed my grip on her face to keep her there. A strong urge to drag her closer struck me. I didn’t want to let her go. I knew the minute I did, the space would be there again and it’d be difficult to close.
She growled a little. “Hey, Ghost. This is super rude. You can’t just go around grabbing people’s—”
My mouth cut hers off. I’d leaned all the way forward and pressed my lips over hers the way I saw mortals do. The way Zelus did when he wanted to make a woman stop talking. The way I’d wanted to several times while she slept next to me. I’d never had the desire to kiss anyone until her, and the softness of her mouth made me glad I’d finally given into it.
