Dec 20

The Glass Castle (Part 1)

He came up behind her as she flipped the second pancake. "Hi" he said. She paused, without looking at him. Her head titled slightly, but she resisted the urge to look at the extremely handsome person behind her. She realized that he wasn't really a person, more of a creature. Some kind of angel, but from hell, not heaven. She was suddenly aware of how close he was to her. His breath was on the back of her neck, and she realized with shock that it was cool. Her face reddened the slightest bit, and she steeled herself as he looked further over her shoulder. 
                     "It's burning." For only a fraction of a second did she think he meant her face. But her senses returned and she noticed the soft sizzling sound of the current pancake. He stepped backwards, and she relaxed. She felt him turn away. She flipped the pancake again. The silence that swallowed the next few tense minutes was deafening. 
                    Afer the last pancake had been finished, she finally turned around to see that he had sat down at the table behind her. It faced a window adorned by flowers, in an otherwise sparse, unoffensive room. It was always clean, and old-fashioned, with wooden walls that had been painted the color of ivory several years before. The flowers had wilted slightly, but she assumed that was because he was there. In the minutes she had been focused on the pancakes, she had forgotten how strikingly beautiful he was. He was tall, slightly on the skinny side, and smooth. Everything about him was smooth, from the way he walked to the shine in his skin. And he was muscular. His arms were more than slightly chiseled, but not in a way that suggested obsession. Physically, he was perfect. Not to mention immortal and inhuman. 
                     She almost laughed then, when she realized just how surreal the whole situation was. Death was sitting at her kitchen table. That does not happen everyday. Especially not to Cleo Foley, who was perefectly normal, except for when she wasn't.