Because of what I had done, I was falling.
Falling, falling, faster, the gravity pulling my body, my wings unable to move. Falling.
Was I going to die?
Was I even able to die?
I did not know. Maybe I would die. Maybe, maybe I would go back. Maybe he thought my death punishment enough. Maybe he could forgive me.
Was it that big a crime?
Was it really?
It did not feel like it. I did not regret it. It was worth it, oh yes, it was worth it. I would have done anything not to be falling, not to be doomed, not to be here. But I still did not regret it.
I was worth every second of my existence.
The air was getting warmer, and now I could see it. I could see it, but somehow, it looked different. Before, I had been able to see them, see the souls, flying towards Heaven. Flying. Released from their earthly bodies, able to see everything absolutely clear.
The look of absolute happiness on their faces. The light.
I would miss it.
Was I, too, going to be one of those souls? Was I too going to rise, higher, higher, until I reached the gates, until I was let in? Was that look going to appear on my face, to? I had never felt absolute happiness. Once, once I had felt something… And for that I was falling, dying. For that, I was doomed.
It was much too late for me now.
I could feel the air against my face. How strange. I had never been able to do that before. Was I a human, now? With my wings dead, unable to function, with my body heavy, seeing, feeling, hearing? I was not merely a presence anymore. I knew that.
I did not know exactly what I was, though.
The clouds were very thick, hundreds of meters to fall through, yet I passed them in mere seconds. It would not be much longer before I hit the ground. I was surprised I was still alive; I should have been on fire, the friction of the rapidly passing air burning me. Burning my skin.
I had skin?
I had hair, too. I had eyes and eyelids. Fingernails. I had feet and toes and I had knees. Elbows. I didn't have clothes.
What had I become?
I had seen them, the humans. For so long I had been watching. Always, always watching, never contacting, never affecting. Never doing anything but watching.
He was so beautiful.
I could still see his image in my mind, as I was falling. The dark hair, the eyes. Him I had seen. Him I had been watching, never noticing anyone else. From the moment I saw him. It was over, before I even knew it I was doomed.
How I loved him.
I loved him, and that was not a problem. I had never heard of one like me doing something like that before. Sometimes, someone disappeared. Without a trace. It was said that they had Fallen. Fallen angels. I understood, now, what their crime had been.
I was one of them, now. I was one of the fallen angels. My wings gone. I had a body, now, I was a Something instead of just an image.
Because of him.
And still, still I loved him.
I had done nothing but watch him. Look at him. So it was not a problem.
It was not a problem until I acted.
How? How could I ever, ever let him die?
I did not do much. I didn't let anyone know I was there. I just pushed him out of the way. He would have died, otherwise. He would have died if that car had hit him.
And now I was falling, closer, faster. I was going to hit the ground. I was going to die.
Was this really the end?
I was being punished for saving him.
I did not regret it or anything else.
As long as he was alive. It was worth it, as long as he was alive.
And then I hit the ground.
It did not hurt. It was powerful, the blow, sure, but it did not hurt. I could feel the ground against my body. My skin.
The feelings… the overwhelming impressions. The sounds, the light, the hard road. The wind. My hair was long, apparently, long and now hiding my face.
Voices.
Asking, talking. Was I alright? Whispered questions. Where the hell had I come from? Why was I naked? A rude comment about my body. No one laughed.
I did not know what language it was. I understood them all. I had existed for thousands, millions of years, and I understood them all. I couldn't even tell them apart anymore.
"Are you okay?" Closer, this time. I tried to remove the hair from my eyes. It was brown, thick and curled slightly. I was a girl, apparently, I saw when I looked down on myself.
"Are you hurt?" I met his gaze. He didn't flinch.
It was him.
And now, finally, I understood. Fallen angel.
It was not a punishment, falling.
It was a gift.