I tugged on the simple black ribbon holding up my hair. It came out easily.
I liked keeping it down, so that the raven waves flowed over my shoulders and down my back. Unfortunately, as I had come to realize, the waist-long tresses weren't exactly the most practical for gardening.
My eyes traveled to the small bedroom window, gazing longingly at the garden growing just outside. I wanted to run my hand over the tiny shells that would soon ripen and swell into a picturesque pumpkin. I wanted to whisper to the blossoming chrysanthemums and tell them it was ready to open. But there wasn't a weed in sight, not a single vine that needed to be untangled. It was about to rain, so I didn't need to water the plants. I was patient. I could wait.
Sighing loudly, I sat down on Aurora's old bed. It creaked a little under me. I drummed my fingers against my thigh, which was covered in the green silk that had been a birthday present. I tried not to, but ended up stealing another glance towards the window.
The day passed uneventfully. I dusted the house again, just for something to do. I played with Onion for just a few minutes before boredom overtook me again.
It still didn't rain. I began to worry that the shower might not come, and I'd have to water the garden in the pitch black of night. The clouds blanketed the sky, thick and dark, hoarding the water that they held.
It was late, far too late, when I heard him knocking softly on the door.
At first, I was scared. I wasn't Ash anymore, who would open the door without a second thought, with her protective thorns and nails in her boots. So I waited, confused and a little frightened, with the closed oak door in front of me.
But slowly, ever so slowly, my hesitation ebbed. I wrapped my fingers around the brass knob and twisted. I quietly pulled the door open, hiding behind it timidly. I peeked around the edge, and I stared.
It was so much like last time. Diamond stood there wordlessly, staring at the hill in the distance. The same nonchalant stance that radiated uncertainty. The same muddy shoes. The same silence.
Not everything was the same, though. He carried nothing, no canvas and no paints. He was wearing the denim jacket I'd gotten him, his face shamelessly visible. Some of his burns had healed fully, while others scarred white lines into his face. The burns startled me in a way they would never surprise Ash.
It felt like hours before he finally turned to look at me. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and I was afraid he didn't recognize me. Because I wasn't Ash, who cut off her hair and sewed thorns into her clothes. I wasn't Ash, who could feel the difference between copper and gold, between wheat bread and rye. I wasn't Ash, the girl with cloudy eyes who lived in the dark.
We stood in the doorway, staring at each other, silent as the grave. He was outside, I was in. The threshold of the house seemed like an iron curtain.
It finally started to rain. One drip, then two, then all at once. Fat drops fell from the clouds, wetting his hair and soaking his clothes. By the time I finally had the sense to step aside and let him in, he was drenched and shaking.
I closed the door behind him as he stepped into the tiny, unlit foyer. I bent my head down and hid my face with my hair. I shyly looked up at him through my long lashes.
It's been a long time, I spoke quietly, What, about three years?
He nodded, looking at me warily.
Of course he looked at me with cautious eyes. Because I wasn't Ash. Because he didn't know me.
That had to change.
My name is Green.
Well, what do you think? Like? Hate? Please review!
I personally think that not enough people have read Green Angel. It truly is an amazing book.
Anyone asks for it, I'll continue this.
Until next time!