The Artist

Let me rest. Just for now.

“Hello?”

Shut up.

“Are you all right?”

Her worried gentle voice reached the clinging consciousness of the young man. She pinched him to wake him up.

Stop yanking me.

She was taken back, her face flushed in red, alarmed when he slowly opens his eyes. Her face returned to normal and asked again,

“Did you got lost, baby boy?”

Alastor’s eyes struggle to focus as the ray of light coming from the sun came to his position.

“What happened?” she asked again.

His eyes couldn’t believe it. His eyes were lock on her face. He thought of her as a perfect likeness to a divine – like the ones he saw on his book. He slowly opens his mouth, muttering,

“An angel?”

She chuckles, “Not quite.” She waives a strand of her hair to clearly see his dark eyes. “But I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The moment he realized that it is not a dream, Alastor quickly stood and drawn back away from her. His crack sword held aloft and brimmed in light.