Richard lays down on the wet, cold sand. His suit gets damp, but he doesn’t care- it’ll all be drenched when the tide comes around anyway.
The moon shines upon the tides and makes it seem as though swan feathers dress the waves. Maybe the swans took off into the sky, the dark night, to dance in a circle around the cold moon, and left some of their coat behind?
Richard watches the tide creep closer for each breaking wave. Soon enough, the sea will reach him and sweep the sand away along his sides. Maybe it’s trying to reclaim him to live under its reign? Angels were never meant to exist. Surely, nature must react in some way?
The water reaches Richard’s knees, but retracts as quickly and calmly as it came.
It’s cold. Richard figures he’ll eventually get used to it, and that the water will feel warmer than the air.
He closes his eyes as the next tide comes rolling in and lays his hands on his chest.
His heart is beating inside. If the sea, daughter of the moon goddess and mother earth, wants to pull me into her cold waters , he thinks, she’s more than welcome to do it. I won’t die, anyways.
His waist goes cold for a few seconds- the tide is reaching further up. The gentle humming of the sea, the chirping birds and insects of the July night, the light breeze in his hair- if Richard didn’t know what heaven was like, he would assume it was a night by the sea just like this one.
Though, he’s lacking company, and laying in the sand and lamenting his fate as an angel gets lonely. He must look so stupid, drenched from the belly down in water, contemplating his woes. Like an overgrown teenager.
Something’s happening. There’s some kind of sound coming from further up the trail to the beach, and it sounds like footsteps- those of feet clad in nice, polished dress shoes.
Richard freezes in place and quietly says a prayer to shield himself from potential harm. He can’t die, no, but he can definitely still feel pain. And suffering from wounds that would kill a normal human isn’t the greatest experience.
The footsteps come to a halt right by Richard’s head and a familiar voice caresses the warm winds of the still night.
There is no answer. The sand behind Richard’s head shifts with a light sweeping sound, and he assumes the person has either taken a step closer or has sat down by his head.
“You’re cold.” The voice states. A skinny hand with long fingers presses lightly against his cheek and the person sitting by his head sighs.
Richard opens his eyes. A head has blocked the view of the night sky, the constellations and clouds, above him.
The moon hits the face just right- a curtain of long, bleached hair looks white in the moonlight and pale skin looks almost glowing.
His cheekbones are illuminated, as are his lips and the natural pout. The blue eyes look like ice and are almost iridescent in the moonlight.
“Why are you out here?” He asks and takes Richard’s head between his hands. His cheeks are soft and his eyes have just closed.
“I wanted to feel alive.” Richard answers, and frankly, he did. He wanted to feel the water crashing against his body, preferably being pulled into the sea by the waves, and imagine he’s still a mortal human about to face his doom. Does he want to die? No. But he does want to feel adrenaline rushing, his heart picking up pace, and water in his lungs- heaven couldn’t erase all his human traits. Maybe he’s flawed for having such human emotions?
He might never know.
Flake doesn’t answer Richard's statement. He lets his hands rest on his cheeks and gazes out at the ocean as the next wave comes rolling in- it’s almost reaching Richard’s chest now.
“The ocean holds no home for us to host our lives.” Flake says as he watches the tide leave.
“Perfect.” Richard says and opens his eyes.
“Can’t you go and feel alive in another place, in another way?” Flake asks.
Richard scoffs and exhales sharply.
“How?” He asks with his brows furrowed and a confused smile. The waves wash over him again, just short of reaching his ring fingers.
The sand feels like it’s melting under him.
Flake doesn’t say anything. He tilts Richard’s head up and gives him a knowing look.
The two angels lock into each other’s eyes.
They only have each other for company- as far as either of them knows, there are no other angels in Germany, but they might very well be wrong. Angels aren’t that uncommon, whether it’s the type that have been humans earlier in their lives, like Richard, or the ones that have been created and nursed by the hands of heaven without any previous human life, like Flake.
Their relationship is a little odd, in that they aren’t really friends but still very protective- or in Flake’s case- fond of each other. Flake can’t help it- getting to know somebody with a human life and human experiences upon their shoulders is exciting, intriguing and new .
And the human-angel just so happens to be a good-looking young man with dirt brown hair slicked away from his face and troubled-looking blue eyes.
The water doesn’t reach as far up Richard’s body anymore- the tide must be returning into the sea.
“Your excitement is gone now.” Flake states nonchalantly as the wave moves further away, hands still around Richard’s cheeks and chins.
“Is it?” Richard asks, raising his eyebrows and slightly curling the corners of his mouth.
Flake looks confused. Oh, he’s always so oblivious , Richard thinks , he doesn’t catch any of my suggestive hints. Must be the lack of human upbringing.
Or maybe he does catch them, and just never expresses it?
Flake swallows nervously.
“What do you mean?” He asks, biting his lower lip lightly and furrowing his brows.
“You know what I mean.” Richard replies and can’t help but grin at Flake’s ever so slightly nervous expression. He’s cute when he does that , Richard thinks as he sees Flake’s bottom lip pressed between his teeth.
“Oh, come on,” Richard says, “kiss me.”
Flake blinks a few times. He looks a little surprised, a little confused, and his eyes suddenly widen.
“Oh,” he gasps, ” oh! ”
Richard’s expression becomes puzzled.
“Richard,” Flake breathes, “m-my heart just picked up in pace! What d-does it mean?”
Richard swears he falls in love in that exact moment.
“It means you should kiss me.” He grins and turns around, so his white collared shirt and the black tie touches the sand beneath him, and sits up on his knees. Flake looks at him in nervously curious anticipation.
“H-how d-d-do I d-do this?” He stutters and looks down at Richard’s lips.
“Guess.” Richard smiles and leans in. He feels Flake move closer- he feels Flake’s breath against his skin, he feels his skin against his, his eyelashes on his cheeks.
He intertwines his hand in Flake’s hair and presses their foreheads together. Their eyes are shut, yet it’s almost as though they can still see each other, and the curves of their faces are together fitting so well.
Their lips find each other after a few tries, and it’s as though the whole world around them disappears like the sand under their knees. It’s warm and hot and perfect and messy and shy and wonderful and hesitant and too much all at once.
The moon watches. The sea watches. The birds in the trees and the animals in the bushes and the insects in the sky watch. Mother earth watches. Heaven watches.
But Richard and Flake don’t care. They only have eyes, although shut- or rather, lips- for each other.
The sea comes and goes. Richard doesn’t wish to sink into its cold embrace anymore.