FicWad

(A/N: Another one I wrote years ago, posted on my old account and have now dragged here.)


Under the silvery radiance of the full moon her long black coat billowed in the light breeze behind her, the hood shrouding her face from luminosity, the dry autumn leaves under her feat barely making a sound as she slipped gracefully though the old iron gates in to the serene cemetery.

She lingered briefly to lovingly caress the inscription on a nearby headstone. Tracing the lettering with her index finger, her long black nail scratched the dirty stone slightly. Her full ruby lips curled upwards into a heart breaking smile, as the world stood still momentarily, enchanted by her sombre display of affection.

Continuing on, she walked with the delicate poise of a dancer, each step captivating and elegant. Her petite frame seemingly floated effortlessly along, her movement's fluid and breathtaking. She was in no hurry, stopping periodically to read the dedications and epitaphs engraved on marble and stone; declarations of love, sorrow and loss.

She ventured further into the depths of tranquillity, the whisper of the wind toying with the decaying leaves and aged trees, the musical accompaniment to which she danced. From under her hood her black eyes shone with the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes as they scanned her own private playground, her home. Her gaze came to rest upon one of the most modest mausoleums this cemetery played host to. The humble, plain stone building with its single iron gate set in the centre of the front wall was overlooked by a beautiful angel, her arms outstretched, welcoming all the bosom of her love and protection. Of all the crypts she had visited in her many years this had always been her favourite, the over whelming simplicity and beauty drawing her back time and time again.

Tonight was no different. The vault called sweetly to her in a soft, low murmur, the delicate rays of the moonlight bathing the building in a surreal, illuminating glow. She approached from the east side, the moon casting a long shadow before her slight figure, the coat wrapped around her frame moving rhythmically with each step, her hood covering her face from the prying, inquisitive eyes of the man slumped against the door to the tomb.

"Here again Frank?" She asked, her words floating across the void between them effortlessly, the velvety softness of her voice causing his heart to flutter.

He watched her drift elegantly towards him, marvelling at her ability to make even mundane actions, like removing her hood, seem whimsical and enchanting.

"You're alone?" His vivid hazel eyes, partially hidden by his black fringe, surveyed the path she had just appeared along.

"For now." She nodded her exquisite features, her eyes drinking in his appearance.

He sat leaning lazily against the cold metal, his black jean clad legs crossed in front of him, a band tee shirt clinging temptingly from his toned torso. Up his bare arms he wore a multitude of tattoos with pride; she loved his arms, they and his intense eyes, were the first things she had noticed about his physical appearance.

He drew enthusiastically on the cigarette that had remained unsmoked until now in his right hand, blowing the wisps of smoke in her direction as he exhaled.

She smiled slyly at him, shaking her head knowingly, "Those things will kill you in the end Frank."

"I know," he replied, the cigarette now dangling precariously between his pierced lips, "but you gotta go somehow."

She chuckled, a low rasping laugh at the back of her throat. "How true."

He eyed her suspiciously; there was always an unspoken undertone with each word she uttered. Each sentence which passed her pretty lips, clearly thought out and necessary.

"Do I get tonight then?" Frank asked, one corner of his mouth turning up into a provocative smirk.

Her eyes met his, robbing his lungs of air, as he drowned in the sadness and regret she held in her gaze. She blinked slowly and tilted her head, the moonlight highlighting her perfect and devastating beauty.

"I came alone didn't I?" She answered him, looking through her lashes and smiling, uplifting his spirit with her answer.

He nodded, the smile fixed to his eager lips. Tonight was his night, the night he had waited for almost a year. He recalled the first night he had laid eyes on her, walking gracefully through the cemetery, the first time he had seen such unadulterated beauty, unscathed and untouched. From that night onwards he had journeyed to the same vault in hope of catching a glimpse of this dark angel, and most nights he did. She was hardly ever alone though, and he marvelled at her popularity. He never saw her with the same person twice, sometimes she would loiter at the back of a group of friends, chatting quietly and sympathetically to just one of the crowd but mostly when he saw her she was with only a single other individual.

She somehow blended in seamlessly with the graveyard, seemingly belonging here. He couldn't recall ever seeing her elsewhere, except for in the cemetery grounds; of course it was a possibility that he just hadn't noticed her, but he dismissed that idea immediately. She was easy to spot, her resonating splendour screamed out to him and her clothing stood her apart from anyone else he had ever met. If he had been asked to describe her style he would have been at a loss for words, the nearest thing he could conjour up would have been Vintage Burlesque Goth.

He raised himself to his feet and closed the gap between them with two steps. His enthusiasm written all over his handsome face.

Their first meeting had been one of unanswered questions and heated desire. He had stumbled across her as she gazed longingly at the angel above the arched doorway, his usual confidence wiped away the second she had turned to him and smiled, in that instance claiming his heart as her own.

"Let's walk." She suggested, slipping her hand into his and leading him away from the crypt.

Her cold hand sent shockwaves through his body, further increasing the spark of desire that flooded through his veins. His every waking moment was filled with fantasies of her touching him, wanting him, loving him.

"I don't even know your name." He admitted shyly.

"Not many people do." She confessed.

Frank stopped and pulled her to face him, staring into her eyes he opened him mouth to speak but found his words redundant. Holding his gaze she took both his hands in hers and kissed his cheek deftly, causing his lustful thoughts to explode uncontrollably. Her soft, red lips were as cold as her hands and yet they warmed his heart in a way that he found inexplicable.

"Call me Angela."

Stepping back she allowed him to lead her further into the graveyard, the gentle wind playing with the stray pieces of his hair that fell loosely into his eyes.

"Angela." He repeated, rolling her name around his mouth as is savouring the taste. "So where are your friends tonight?"

"You are my friend tonight." She answered, her eyes set on one of the newest headstones, skimming the engravings carved into the marble.

"Did you know him?" Frank asked carefully.

"Yes, at the end." She answered honestly.

"Oh. Uh, I'm sorry for your loss." Frank stuttered awkwardly.

She shot him a sideways glance and smiled at his sincerity. "Thank you but it wasn't unexpected. I knew it was coming." She paused, taking pleasure in his earnest naivety. "Death is always the inevitable end." She whispered, barely audible even in the silence of the cemetery.

He frowned but chose to ignore her last sentence. He had waited too long to further his acquaintance with her and refused to spend what little time they had together discussing such a morbid topic.

"I have a gift for you," she sighed.

Once again he stopped in his tracks and pulled her to face him. "A gift?"

She eyed him with exasperation, knowing only too well how this would end; the same way it always did.

"Yes, I give all my friends a gift. There hasn't been a single one yet who has declined what I have had to offer them but remember," again she paused, gazing in to his hazel eyes beseechingly, "there is always a choice."

Her eyes conveyed there was more to her present than she was letting on. There was more than a hint of caution in the way she reminded him that he had a choice.

"And if I did decline your generous offer?" He enquired warily.

"It isn't exclusively for you, there is someone else-" her words trailed off, carried away in the breeze.

"Oh." He replied unable to hide his disappointment. "Can I ask what the gift is?"

From the corner of his eye he saw her shoulders fall slightly, her naturally perfect posture slipping temporarily.

"A kiss." She replied curtly.

His heart skipped as he beamed in her direction, his inability to suppress the glee only furthering to add to her cheerless composition.

"Think long and hard before making your decision Frank, the ramification of my gift will affect not only you, but those around you."

Again an indication that all was not as it appeared; her advice only serving to confusing him. He had yearned for this for almost a year; day after day, night after night, wanting her more with each passing second, he would be a fool to turn her down.

"It's only a kiss." He laughed momentarily until he caught her expression. She looked at him sadly, a poignant look adorning her striking face. Sighing with dejection, she perched her body on the edge of a tombstone and folded her hands in her lap.

"Yes." She whispered. "Just a kiss."

"Angela? What's wrong?" Frank enquired moving to her side and reclaimed her hand in his. "You tell me you'll kiss me but I can't help but feel you don't want to."

Her face turned to his. With her free hand she softly brushed the hair from his eyes, resting briefly by his temple before dropping to cup his chin.

"What do you see when you look at me Frank?"

"I see a gorgeous woman unlike any of the girls I've ever met. I see someone who I am desperate to get to know."

"No." She silenced him. "Look into my eyes and tell me what you see. Look hard."

He nodded slowly, fixing his gaze upon hers. As he stared into the mysterious pools of jet black he held his breath, the electrifying jolt pulsating through his soul.

"I see." He inhaled before letting out the air slowly and soundlessly. "I see sadness and loss. I see loneliness. I see pain and suffering."

She closed her eyes as a tiny smile played at the edges of her mouth. "Yes." Her lids flickered open and she locked her gaze with his once more. "You're very perceptive Mr Iero. But are you discerning enough?"

He cocked his head to one side and shrugged his shoulders. "Why is everything a mystery and a riddle with you?"

"Ah, that my dear friend is simple. I am to you an enigma because you have no concept of my existence."

He wondered at her choice of words, once again concluding that there was a fundamental undertone in her words.

"So let me ask you, if you were me would you accept the kiss?"

He was astonished by his own boldness. His body shrieked at him to lean across and take her mouth in his but his head swam with doubt. She stood to face him before curiously enveloping him in a gentle embrace, resting her chin on his shoulder she spoke quietly into his ear.

"You have surprised me Frank. I am genuinely taken aback by your ability to separate your physical want from intelligent rationalising. I should not have underestimated you."

Cautiously he pulled her closer and held her body to his. "I'm glad you don't hold all the cards." He divulged. "But you haven't answered my question."

"Indeed." She replied before stepping away from him.

She bowed down elegantly and plucked a flower from its stem. Raising it to her face she inhaled the syrupy smell of pollen, relishing the sweetness as it bombarded her senses.

"I am not you and this is not my decision to make," she began as she handed him the flower, "but if I were in your position right now I would refuse. Tonight should not be your night."

He twirled the flower in his hands, silently contemplating her reply before regarding her with curiosity. "Will I ever get my night?" He asked.

"Yes Frank. Hopefully a long time from now you will get your night."

In the distance the church bell began to chime, the echoes of the hammer striking metal muffled somewhat by the wind and trees. As the last peal rang out Frank cleared his throat and knelt before her.

"I've made my decision. Ask me again." He declared with resolved determination.

She licked her lips slowly before opening her mouth to speak. "Frank. I have a gift for you. Will you accept?"