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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1503376-Prologue
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Romance/Love · #1503376
He was a stranger. He was an angel without wings.
His eyes were pure marble, and his lips were red with the pulsing blood flowing through his veins. Almost half of his face was hidden from view behind the veil of dark hair which reached almost to his chest; they hung limply around his shoulders, damp and covered in parts with the white of the snow.

         The wind was exceptionally cold that evening. Every gust it blew bit my skin, firing up the pain that was already consuming every part of my being. I was half aware of the blood running down my arms and the side of my face, matting my bangs to my temple in sticky clumps. I could sense that my left hand was not positioned correctly, and my head felt like it was going to split any moment from the excruciating throb that was almost too much for me to take. But through everything I was experiencing, I couldn’t permit myself to give in to the torment and exhaustion, willing to keep my lids from closing. I couldn’t give in to the pain; at least, not yet. My lips trembled from the cold as my unfocused gaze settled on the face of the person before me—the stranger with the uncharacteristically smooth skin, whose deep eyes bored into me in an emotionless stare. He was standing as still as a statue, the only movement in his being the gentle flapping of the collar of his white shirt, his jacketless torso still slightly bent in a tense position. The depth I saw hidden in the enigma beneath his brows were appalling; he was a ghost, a visage who materialized out of nowhere … and an angel who saved me just when I thought I was going to die.

         Snow dusted the streets white, but the pavement around us was crimson. I only had time to see him finally break out of his motionless state as he slowly walked towards the spot where I awkwardly laid, leaving behind another body slumped over the pavement, the white flakes gradually covering its whole form as it seeped through the blood pooling around the already cold corpse. I struggled to keep my consciousness as I felt the stranger’s warm breath against my cheek, all the while acutely aware that the pain spreading through my body was growing worse.

         “Hold on.”

         His voice was strong, soft, and firm. I felt sudden warmth cover my entire being as the essence of being groundless overcame me. My eyes fluttered shut, but not before having the chance to probe deeper into his marble eyes. Somehow, they didn’t look as emotionless as before.

         I knew then that I was safe, and so I surrendered myself to the cold and the pain ... and the hissing of the wind was suddenly gone.

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