Angel - Chapter Two

Alisa Devroux pulled the beige trenchcoat closer to her as she pushed her way through the horde of people on the sidewalk, rain pelting her hood in a constant thrum. Why do I live in New York, again? At the moment, she wasn't exactly sold on her own preference for city-living.

Growing up in a small town in South Carolina, she had longed for the crushing weight of human traffic that made you feel as small and helpless as a child while simultaneously filling you with the sensation that you were part of something much greater than yourself. A horde of people that worked together like a well-oiled vessel in the heart of one of the World's greatest cities.

Uh huh, she mused as she thought back to her fantasized days of living in a big city. She supposed her fantasies of city life were colored by the idealistic lifestyles of Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City and other similar tv shows of independent, empowered women in great metropolitan districts. Unfortunately real life isn't that fluffy. Alisa didn't live in a penthouse suite overlooking Manhattan, she didn't work in a job that entailed wearing designer shoes, and she didn't exactly attract flocks of men to her doorstep.

Instead, she worked a nine to five job as a teller, lived in Brooklyn, and hadn't been on a date since who-knows-when. To say that her life wasn't exactly living-on-the-edge worthy would be the understatement of the century.

She turned onto the block leading to her building and picked up the pace as her patent leather kitten heels clicked rhythmically on the cement. Her building was just a little ways away and she had to refrain from making a fool of herself and running to the exterior stairs as a chilling wind tore off her hood and whipper her hair in a frenzy of brown curls.

Screw it. She left the hood lying useless on her back and took off across the puddled walkway. Almost there, almost there. Her heels clicked with each step as she ran on tip toe over the flooding sidewalks. Soon she was breathing heavy and made a mental note to make time for the gym more often. She turned the corner on a skid that nearly left her face planted on the sidewalk and came to an abrupt halt. Her chest was heaving against the light blue buttoned blouse and she hastily brushed tangled ringlets from her face as she stood momentarily speechless.

A man was sitting on the bottom steps of her stairway. He lifted his head from staring at the puddled ground, his forearms resting on his jean-clad knees, and looked up to meet her gaze. Eyes of the lightest copper framed by a fan of dark lashes peered at her from his position on the steps as water dripped steadily onto his cheekbones from tendrils of short black hair. Seeing her standing motionless before him, he rose from the steps and gestured for her to pass.

He stood nearly six inches above her own 5'7” frame while the white T-shirt clung to the tanned broad shoulders and chest of the man before her. Muscle-wrought biceps bunched beneath the fabric as he placed his hands loosely inside his pockets. He stood drenched from the rain, clad only in a T-shirt - though it was nearly forty degrees - and managed to maintain the composure of a man without a care in the world. The practiced poise of a man who knew no weakness.

Feeling her eyes sting slightly, she brushed a finger under one eye and came away with a smear of black mascara. She groaned inwardly. Why do I have to look like crap on the day that I meet the most gorgeous man I've ever laid eyes on?

She cleared her throat and thought of a way to begin conversation. It wasn't the most practical of times to flirt with a man, but when life gives you lemons... “Can I help you?” Great, now I sound like a Walmart clerk.

He continued to stare at her, his eyes trailing from the rain-drenched kitten heels to the frazzled brown mass upon her head. Finally, his eyes rested on hers. “No mor-,” he cleared his throat, catching himself before he referred to her as a 'mortal', “No one can help me.”

Oh he definitely needs my help.

“Well why don't you come inside and we can get you dry?” She smiled up at him, trying to appear as sane as possible as she invited a complete stranger into her home.

He continued to stare at her with unwavering clarity and she began to squirm under his gaze. She opened her mouth to repeat the request, afraid that he had not heard her over the roar of the wind tearing through the alley, but finally he nodded slowly. “As you wish.” The deep timbre of his voice was chocolate wrapped in velvet, seduction clinging to him like a second skin.

Not knowing what else to say, she took a step towards him. He stepped aside to let her pass while her heart pulsed frantically in her chest. She took a deep breath and spewed out nervous energy, her words tripping over each other in their haste. “Okay, well just follow me and I will get you a towel to dry off. I'm sorry if my house is a mess, I haven't had time to clean lately. Are you hungry? I'm sure you are, but you don't have to eat here if you don't want to.”

She clenched her jaw in an effort to stop rambling and reached into her purse to extract the keys before jiggling them into the lock. The rain had warped the wood and she pushed forcefully against the door, nearly falling into the living room when it opened abruptly. She put her hand out against the wall to steady herself and glanced behind to see the man enter the house. She reached behind him to push the door closed before taking off her coat and hanging it on the hook below the long horizontal mirror in the entryway.

She glanced into the mirror and watched as his reflection scanned the room in one long sweep, seemingly taking note of every detail. When he had encircled the room, his stare landed on her. She turned around to face him. Right, a towel. “I'm just going to grab a towel from the closet. I'll be right back.” She left him standing inside the doorway as a puddle pooled around him, turning left into the narrow hallway. Opening the closet door, she reached inside and took out a white towel.

“Here,” She said after she walked back into the living room/ entryway, handing him the piece of tarry cloth. He looked at it quizzically for a brief moment before pressing it to his chest and abdomen. “Would you like some hot tea? It'll only take a moment. Or would you like to use the phone to have someone pick you up?” She looked at him searchingly as she tried to read the stoic expression. His mouth was pressed in a firm line as he ran the towel through his dark locks, his eyes now upon her face.

“I have no need to use your phone and I have never had tea.” He had stopped drying himself now and simply held the towel in his hand.

“Oh I'll take that from you,” she said as she leaned forward to take the damp towel from his outstretched arm. “Do you need a ride, then? I can call a cab for you.” The opportunity to strike a conversation with a man as beautiful as him didn't exactly come around often, still, she mused, she couldn't hold him hostage in her apartment.

“I have no need for a cab.” A man of few words.

“Well, where do you live? Maybe I can give you directions.” She tossed over her shoulder as she walked into the small kitchen of the two bedroom flat and turned the faucet on, filling a tea pot with cold tap water before placing it on the stove to boil.

“I do not live anywhere. I am,” He paused for a moment before saying, “without a home.”

She poked her head out of the kitchen and frowned at him, mouth slightly agape as she came to terms with what he had just said. “Oh you poor thing. Well,” she stopped talking and brought her head back into the kitchen and studiously watched the water begin to boil as she searched her brain for a reasonable solution. She could take him to a homeless shelter, but that somehow seemed cruel. Well, this was her opportunity to build some good karma and be a good citizen, she thought to herself.

With the water now boiling, she grabbed a few bags of green tee and dropped them into the pot, removing the kettle from the heat and turning off the stove as the tea seeped. For once she was going to take a chance, live on the edge, go with the flow, and any other verbal cliché she could think of. Suddenly nervous, she spoke to him from behind the kitchen wall. “You could stay here if you want until you get your feet under you.” Besides, maybe a roommate wouldn't be so bad, she thought as she smiled to herself. A hot roommate at that.

Silence.

She frowned and walked out of the kitchen, thinking he may have taken the opportunity to slip away from her and the absurd proposal. But he still stood there, water-logged jeans still forming a small pool at his feet. She walked onto the gray carpet of the living room and leaned against the back of the tan, suede sectional, placing one arm alongside the top of it as she peered at him. “Did you hear me?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her as he said, “Yes, I was simply pondering why a woman would ask a strange man to stay at her home.”

Her cheeks heated at the subtle reminder of her somewhat peculiar offer. “Oh, well you don't have to stay here if you don't want to. I just thought I'd offer.” She said and began to feel foolish even as she defended herself. A glean of brilliance split the stoic expression and one dimple appeared on the lightly tanned face as he smiled and she watched as his eyes traveled just south from my eyes and landed on her blushed cheeks.

“I meant no offense. It would please me to stay here.”

“Oh.” She stood staring at him, shock making her raise her brows and blink rapidly as she came to terms with the fact that she now had a strange, albeit beautiful, room mate. “Well if you'll be staying here, I suppose I should introduce myself.” I extended my hand. “I'm Alisa.”

He took her hand into his larger, warmer palm, gripping it gently as he said, “I am Raphael.”

Reviews

[khalid]

very nicely written but i think details are more than expected in some areas of the story such as..why does she offer things more than expected?i think 2 offers wod be enough. i enjoyed reading it

[André-J-Franklin]

I love how this is unfolding! living a life life of simplicity both of them and running into each other as if fate had something to do with. How actually did he just end up on her stairs. Looking forward to the relationship these to have later in the book.