Angel
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"What the-"
Collins blinked sleepily, and lifted his head from the pillow slightly. A flash of lightening illuminated his room, and revealed a small form curled up against the wall on the other side of his bed. A tiny head lifted, and Collins groaned with both exaspiration and drowsiness.
"C-C-Collins?"
"What are you doin' in here?"
"I got scared of the light flashes and big booms."
/The kid lived on the streets for the past few months! How could he get scared of a thunderstorm?/ Collins thought to himself, but nonetheless scootched over.
"It's just lightening and thunder."
"It's still scary...can I sleep with you?"
Collins opened his mouth to say no, but another boom rampaged overhead, and Angel whimpered, amber eyes watering. The convincing arguement was set on the table.
"Oh-alright. But just for a little while."
"Thank you." Angel sniffled, and snuggled up next to Collins.
Tom pulled back up the covers and stared at his visitor a moment. He couldn't get back to sleep-it was close to sunrise anyway, so he contented himself with watching his younger companion drowse. Absent-mindedly, his fingers brushed some stray bangs from Angel's forehead, tucking them behind a small ear. However certain he had been of wide-awakedness, Collins soon drifted off to the lulling sound of rain beating against his windows.
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"Who are they?"
"Huh?"
Angel had crawled over Collins' stomach, and was now looking through an assortment of pictures. Collins looked up to see the youth stretched horizontally over his chest, holding up a picture of Mark and Roger.
"That's Mark and Roger-what are you doing going through my stuff?"
"You was still sleepin'!" Angel giggled, and thrust another photo into Collins' face. "Who is they?"
"Roger and Mimi."
"Mi~mi! Me~me?"
"Mimi. Now get off!"
Angel slid back to the bed, little hands grasping the collection of frames and pictures.
"Mark, and...and..."
"Maureen."
"Maureen! My foster mummy's name was Maureen..."
"Oh...I see."
"So do I!" Angel pointed to his eyes, and looked at another picture of Maureen and Joanne kissing. "Why are they tasting each other?"
"They're kissing. Gimme those!"
Collins grabbed the pictures before Angel could get to the painful ones-the pictures that were responsible for his thrusting them all in the drawer. Unfortunately, Angel still held some-most of which were ones that Collins wasn't too keen on looking at.
"It's you!" Angel yelped happily, "and a lady! She's pretty! Who'sat?"
Collins looked halfheartedly at the picture. It was his Angel licking stray ice cream off of Tom's cheek. (He had never exactly found out how it had gotten there in the first place...) He remembered that day clearly-it had been when the entire group had traveled the distance to the park in order to have a picnic.
"That's...Angel."
"She's licking your cheek!" Angel giggled. "My name's Angel too!"
"So it is..."
"Can I meet her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because she's not here now."
Angel suddenly became very quiet. Finally, he whispered, "That's what they told me about my gramma."
Collins looked at the picture he held in his hand, then back at Angel. The youth set down the stack of photos he had been grasping, and put them in Tom's lap. They were both silent for a moment.
It was Angel who broke the silence with a timid voice. "I don't think I wanna look at pictures anymore...my tummy hurts."
'Mine too.' Collins thought, but didn't say it out loud. Instead, he slid the pictures back into the drawer and sighed. "Maybe we should scrounge up some breakfast, huh kiddo?"
"Okay!"
That had done it. Instantly, Angel popped up and scampered to the kitchen. "Last one there's a smelly old dustball."
Collins laughed, and trotted up after him. Silently, he thanked God for inspiring him to wear his warmer gray sweatpants to bed that night-it was freezing in his little flat. With one last glance backwards at Angel's framed picture on his bedstand, he left the room.
The well-loved photo of Angel Dumott Schunard smiled after them.
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"What the-"
Collins blinked sleepily, and lifted his head from the pillow slightly. A flash of lightening illuminated his room, and revealed a small form curled up against the wall on the other side of his bed. A tiny head lifted, and Collins groaned with both exaspiration and drowsiness.
"C-C-Collins?"
"What are you doin' in here?"
"I got scared of the light flashes and big booms."
/The kid lived on the streets for the past few months! How could he get scared of a thunderstorm?/ Collins thought to himself, but nonetheless scootched over.
"It's just lightening and thunder."
"It's still scary...can I sleep with you?"
Collins opened his mouth to say no, but another boom rampaged overhead, and Angel whimpered, amber eyes watering. The convincing arguement was set on the table.
"Oh-alright. But just for a little while."
"Thank you." Angel sniffled, and snuggled up next to Collins.
Tom pulled back up the covers and stared at his visitor a moment. He couldn't get back to sleep-it was close to sunrise anyway, so he contented himself with watching his younger companion drowse. Absent-mindedly, his fingers brushed some stray bangs from Angel's forehead, tucking them behind a small ear. However certain he had been of wide-awakedness, Collins soon drifted off to the lulling sound of rain beating against his windows.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Who are they?"
"Huh?"
Angel had crawled over Collins' stomach, and was now looking through an assortment of pictures. Collins looked up to see the youth stretched horizontally over his chest, holding up a picture of Mark and Roger.
"That's Mark and Roger-what are you doing going through my stuff?"
"You was still sleepin'!" Angel giggled, and thrust another photo into Collins' face. "Who is they?"
"Roger and Mimi."
"Mi~mi! Me~me?"
"Mimi. Now get off!"
Angel slid back to the bed, little hands grasping the collection of frames and pictures.
"Mark, and...and..."
"Maureen."
"Maureen! My foster mummy's name was Maureen..."
"Oh...I see."
"So do I!" Angel pointed to his eyes, and looked at another picture of Maureen and Joanne kissing. "Why are they tasting each other?"
"They're kissing. Gimme those!"
Collins grabbed the pictures before Angel could get to the painful ones-the pictures that were responsible for his thrusting them all in the drawer. Unfortunately, Angel still held some-most of which were ones that Collins wasn't too keen on looking at.
"It's you!" Angel yelped happily, "and a lady! She's pretty! Who'sat?"
Collins looked halfheartedly at the picture. It was his Angel licking stray ice cream off of Tom's cheek. (He had never exactly found out how it had gotten there in the first place...) He remembered that day clearly-it had been when the entire group had traveled the distance to the park in order to have a picnic.
"That's...Angel."
"She's licking your cheek!" Angel giggled. "My name's Angel too!"
"So it is..."
"Can I meet her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because she's not here now."
Angel suddenly became very quiet. Finally, he whispered, "That's what they told me about my gramma."
Collins looked at the picture he held in his hand, then back at Angel. The youth set down the stack of photos he had been grasping, and put them in Tom's lap. They were both silent for a moment.
It was Angel who broke the silence with a timid voice. "I don't think I wanna look at pictures anymore...my tummy hurts."
'Mine too.' Collins thought, but didn't say it out loud. Instead, he slid the pictures back into the drawer and sighed. "Maybe we should scrounge up some breakfast, huh kiddo?"
"Okay!"
That had done it. Instantly, Angel popped up and scampered to the kitchen. "Last one there's a smelly old dustball."
Collins laughed, and trotted up after him. Silently, he thanked God for inspiring him to wear his warmer gray sweatpants to bed that night-it was freezing in his little flat. With one last glance backwards at Angel's framed picture on his bedstand, he left the room.
The well-loved photo of Angel Dumott Schunard smiled after them.