by Mary Dublin
"Don't tell me Jon had you move in already. I've only been gone a month." Leeana brushed past Cliff with a suitcase in tow. He pushed the door and rushed to stay ahead of her. She stopped in the hallway, looking around the apartment.
"Someone had to help with the rent." Cliff hastened to the kitchen with Leeana not far behind. He pretended to gather up garbage in one hand, then turned around, his free hand behind his back, fingers curling inward in an invitation to Sylvia.
She broke out of her stupor when she saw her chance to escape. Keeping a wary eye out, she ran into Cliff's grasp without hesitation. It wasn't until she was settled that she realized she was trembling. Sturdy fingers clasped around her securely, shoving her into his pants pocket just as Leeana's footsteps caught up.
"Well, I see you've left your personal touch already," she said snidely, looking at the stack of dirty dishes yet to be washed in the sink.
Cliff adjusted his grip around Sylvia when she squirmed to fold her wings properly. "Yeah, well you didn't exactly leave him in a good state of mind. You're really here to berate me about chores?"
His voice rumbled above her and through her from the closer than close proximity. Sylvia groaned under her breath at the strain on her wings. The still-healing hole only added to the discomfort. She tried to hold still, but the need to draw her wings behind her in the small space was natural. Even as she shifted, she listened and found herself disliking Leeana from the way she spoke to Cliff. Even worse, it seemed she had hurt Jon.
"Mm, yeah. I see you've been taking real good care of him."
Her footsteps retreated, and to Sylvia's dismay, Cliff gave into striding straight after her in his annoyance.
Leeana's voice came again. "Where is he?"
"Out," Cliff answered briskly.
"Where 'out'?"
"Didn't say."
Leeana sighed, and Sylvia caught the sound of fabric being whisked off the floor, as if she was clearing away the discarded jackets that hadn't quite made it to the coat closet.
"Don't touch my clothes, Lee," Cliff snapped.
Leeana continued regardless. "You two may be able to live like this, but I can't."
Cliff gave a start. Sylvia resisted the urge to groan as his fingers reflexively coiled a little tighter around her. There was no room in the pocket as it was!
"You think you can just move back in like nothing happened?" he demanded.
"Not up to you, Cliff," Leeana reminded him in a sing-song voice.
Sylvia scowled, biting down hard on her lip. What could Jon see in that woman? She knew it was jealousy clouding her initial judgment, but even Cliff had a blatant disdain for Leeana.
Curiosity took hold of Sylvia. Her brief look at the woman had been too brief. Fuming from what she'd heard, she squirmed upward, trying to slip by Cliff's fingers to see over the top of the pocket. Cliff's hand reacted immediately, tightening as if to keep her stuffed down. But Sylvia wouldn't have it. She kicked at his ring finger in the limited space, finally getting him to loosen up enough to get her arms out over the rim of his jeans pocket. Her first sight overhead was Cliff glaring down at her.
"What are you doing?" he mouthed fiercely.
"Trying to see," she mouthed back, glowering at him. She leveled her gaze to see the woman and suddenly felt cold. The light hair that fell down Leeana's back was silky and beautiful. Even without seeing her face, Sylvia could tell she was gorgeous.
"What're you doing now, Cliff?" Leeana asked, not glancing up from tidying up the place.
"You mean other than watch you suck up to your ex?"
Leeana bristled. "He's not my ex. We just… took some time off. I'm here to apologize."
Sylvia clenched her fists, fingers digging into Cliff's hand. She had no idea what had happened between Jon and Leeana, but Cliff thought it was bad enough for them to be finished as a couple. Yet Jon had still referred to Leeana as his girlfriend. Feeling the icy sensation worsen, she let herself slide back into the pocket. The unwelcome feelings of confusion returned with a vengeance.
Behind the layers of denim and Cliff's overprotective hand, Sylvia barely heard the keys jerk in the front door some time later. But the voice that followed with the cautious footsteps was unmistakable.
"Leeana?"
A flood of warmth spread through Sylvia at the sound of Jon's voice. It faded just as quickly when she remembered the situation.
She wriggled carefully to the very top of the pocket again, ignoring the annoyed twitch of Cliff's hand. She knew Cliff could shove her back down in the pocket anytime he wished, and there was little she could do to fight him. To her relief, his hand stayed steady. He was letting her peek out.
Sylvia craned her neck, watching Leeana's honey-gold hair whip around as Jon entered. She made her way over to him, wiping her hands on her pants as she went. She bit her lip expectantly as Jon surveyed his surroundings. At some point, his gaze shifted from bewilderment to active searching… like he was actively looking for something. Or someone, Sylvia thought hopefully.
Her hope faded as his worry remained unpacified. His eyes moved right over her hiding spot on Cliff's person, but he didn't seem to see her. Sylvia had to swallow down the urge to call out to him, trying not to be discouraged by her insignificance amongst the humans.
"What are you doing here?" Jon demanded, narrowing his eyes at Leeana. "You're… cleaning?"
"I used to help out around this dump before." She dismissed his confusion with an easy smile. "I didn't think I would, but I… I missed you, babe. I just needed time to think." She stepped closer, following him as he brushed past her to peer underneath the couch. "Jon, what are you looking for?"
"Nothing!" Jon looked up from the floor by the couch to see Leeana looking at him strangely. He stood up. "I tried to call you a dozen—"
She held up a dead cell phone. "Four hour flights really kill your battery."
Jon folded his arms across his chest. "Right. What's your excuse entire month before that?"
She set the phone aside and stepped right up to him. Jon looked down—their chests were mere inches apart.
"You wanted to talk to me… and I'm here now," she said carefully. "So… let's talk."
Their voices became indistinguishable as Cliff walked away. Sylvia buried her face in her hands, wishing she could make the yearning to talk to Jon go away.
"She's not staying here, is she?" She pushed her torso out of the pocket when they were out of earshot. "Will she make you leave?"
Cliff shut the bedroom door behind him. "I don't think so." He pinched under her arms with a finger and thumb and hoisted her out the rest of the way. He set her down on her feet atop his nightstand. "Besides, he'll talk to me about it first."
Sylvia paced along the edge of the nightstand, running her hands up and down her arms, hugging herself restlessly. Cliff's words made her feel better, but only a bit. She needed to know for sure. Leeana's return was seriously throwing a wrench into an already complicated situation. She stopped and looked up at Cliff with a frown. "What did she do to Jon? What did she do that's making her need to try so hard to get him back?"
Cliff sank down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.
"She's not too big on the monogamy thing. She was flirting with other guys. Practically right in front of him," he explained. "Jon confronted her about it, and she got defensive. Said he was stifling her and she wanted some fresh air or crap like that. So… she left." He looked toward the door. The estranged couple's voices had lowered. "That was the worst part—leaving him stuck here, not knowing what the hell she did want." Cliff continued, in a quieter voice. "Hot or not, that chick is not worth the baggage."
Sylvia stared at him with disbelief. She began pacing again and made effort to keep her voice down, which was difficult.
"So, she doesn't appreciate him and expects him to deal with that? How could she not appreciate him? He doesn't deserve to be treated like that, not when he's so kind. If I was lucky enough to be with someone that caring,
I can't imagine anyone even being capable of doing that." She lowered herself to sit with her legs hanging over the edge of the nightstand, rubbing her eyes wearily. "I swear, if she's not out of here in the next five minutes, I'm going to lose it."
Cliff smiled, likely finding her fit adorable. But the look in his eyes was a look Sylvia recognized; the kind that came only when one had experienced the sting of loss firsthand.
He gave her a tense smile. "Jealousy's a bitch, ain't it?"
Twelve
Ten minutes later, they heard luggage wheels rolling and footsteps shuffling toward the front door, voices raised in farewells. Then a single familiar pair of steps led to the bedroom door before it swung open. Jon caught sight of the fairy near Cliff and sighed in relief.
"That sounded fun," Cliff commented, tucking his arms behind his head, sprawled out on the bed. Jon merely humphed as he crashed down upon his unmade bed with a mighty groan of the mattress.
Sylvia went to the corner of the nightstand, as near to Jon as she could manage. She was still fuming over what Cliff had told her about Leeana, but the anger eased now that she was gone.
"Are you alright?" Her eyes darted over Jon's huge form. "What happened?"
Though her voice was small in comparison, Jon looked over right away, his large brown eyes finding her searching expression awaiting him.
"I've been calling her for a month on and off, and she just decides to show up at the doorstep with no warning." Jon held up a hand palm-up at the edge of the table, an invitation. "She says she's grown up a lot in the time apart. Wants to move back in together. But it's not that simple. I need time to think about it."
Sylvia ignored the prompt rush of her heartbeat and stepped onto his palm. She knelt and looked down, eyes hardening at his words. While she was glad that he wasn't giving in to Leeana so easily, she was incredulous that he would even consider it.
"She's, er… very pretty," Sylvia said, folding her hands on her lap. She held back from voicing her raw thoughts on Leeana, sugar-coating them beyond recognition. "Just, uh, not very nice. From what I noticed."
Cliff snorted, disdain plain on his face.
Jon spoke up first, explaining patiently. "You just saw the wrong side of her. She and Cliff loathe each other famously. Just rubs him the wrong way."
"She's an egocentric bi—"
"Hey, that's enough!" Although his defense came quick as a whip, Jon wore a hesitant expression. After a moment, he returned his attention to Sylvia, bringing her closer to eye level. "Wait—she didn't see you, did she?"
"No, but there were a few close calls," she replied. "Cliff hid me the moment she walked in. Good thing, too, because I sort of froze up." Sylvia chewed her lip, mulling the situation over. "But that reminds me… it would have been easy to hide if I could fly. I think I'm ready to give healing my wing a try, in case something like this happens again. You still have my book, don't you?"
"Um, yeah." Jon patted himself down with his free hand, before leaning over the check the nightstand drawer. Sylvia watched as he reached in carefully. He offered the procured book to her between a finger and thumb. She suppressed a shiver as she wedged her hands between his fingertips.
Cliff sat upright, staring right at her. "Hang on. You could have healed your wing this whole time?"
Sylvia took the book and flipped through it, glancing up at Cliff. "Not exactly. I said I would try. But I'm not sure how well it'll work, if at all. I may even pass out from the effort. Honestly, I've been putting it off because of that." Remembering they didn't know about magic, she paused her leafing to explain herself. "Fairies like me who aren't regularly trained at magic need a source to fuel it. Emotion works. Anger, fear, joy, anything as long as it's powerful. The water and healing incantations I did the other day were only strong because I felt very… passionate, at the time. Even then, they took a lot out of me."
Jon frowned. "Well… don't do it if you don't have the juice for it," he cautioned.
Cliff had been listening quietly on the other bed, now sitting on the edge in a similar position. "Hand her over." He sighed when they both looked at him with blatant hesitation. "Just for a minute, guys. I know how to get her worked up."
Sylvia gave Cliff a suspicious stare, wondering what he was up to. "Alright, just let me find the spell I need," she conceded. Flipping through the book quickly, she arrived at what she needed. "This isn't the one I used before. It's simpler and works differently. Just meant for closing up wounds that aren't necessarily an emergency. But wings are little more complicated than skin, so that'll make it more difficult." After skimming through the incantation with her eyes, she looked up at Cliff expectantly. "May as well try."
She rocked slightly atop Jon's palm when he bridged his hand to Cliff's, who ended up just grabbing the fairy as per usual. He cupped her close to his face—so close she could smell the remnants of citrus on his breath and see the coarseness of a second day's stubble texturing his chin.
"You slept in the bed where he screwed her for the first time." Cliff whispered the words like the tender words of a lover.
She blanched and nearly dropped the book. Though she had never heard that term before, she immediately grasped what it meant. Cliff really did know what he was doing: hurting her to boost the jealous mindset she'd done a poor job of concealing before Jon had arrived in the bedroom.
It wasn't any of her business what went on in Jon's bed, really, but her loathing for Leeana managed to set her off. Her face set in a scowl.
In her haste, she fell to her knees on Cliff's palm and began reading aloud the incantation fervently while the shock was still fresh. Shifting the book to one arm, she reached back and spread her wings to press her fingertips on the edge of the bullet hole. The ancient words poured out naturally. She kept a vivid image of Leeana in mind, her pupils dilating. Her surroundings faded away, but she managed to catch Jon's voice before the spell became her single focus.
"What the hell did you say?" Jon hissed, leaning forward in concern as Sylvia became crippled by her own spell work side effects. Cliff didn't answer, his expression stubborn and fascinated. The faint glow cast on their faces reflected the passion of her magic.
Her breathing grew heavy, but she pressed on, clawing into her subconscious to find anything to keep the passion burning bright: Leeana hurt Jon. But he might take her back. He might still love her. He might screw her again.
Finally, she reached the end of the incantation. The moment she finished the final phrase, a tortured cry tore through her throat. She dropped the book and planted both hands down on Cliff's palm. Her back arched, and she clenched her teeth to fight a scream.
"Sylvia!" Jon leaned forward, hand outstretched. Cliff gave him a sharp look, holding her out of reach. She needed to finish. As hard as it was to watch her in pain, this was necessary.
There was a crackling sound as the glow of magic centered on the hole in her wing. Sylvia's breathy whimpers mixed in with the noise—the hole bursting with new cells, filling itself up. The blue light faded, leaving her wavering. Panting, she fell to her side, wing still rigid with pain. Cliff gingerly lowered her a bit, brushing her sweat dampened forehead with a fingertip.
It was over.
Her head pounded as she squeezed her eyes shut. Soreness throbbed through her wing, crawling up to her shoulder blades, her arms, her fingertips. Her eyelids flipped open weakly as she registered the gentle pressure on her forehead more fully, pupils reducing to normal size.
Groaning, she propped herself with an arm and looked around through bleary vision. She reached back and touched the spot where the hole had been. Hissing, she yanked her hand back and lowered her head as her wing flared out, still tender from the re-growth.
"Whoa, just take it easy," Cliff murmured.
Jon leaned forward, his breathing suddenly audible. "Sylvia?"
She looked up and met his worried gaze, wiping her face in case any tears had managed to leak out. Carefully, she folded her wings, though her freshly he
aled one remained stiff instead of relaxing loosely against her back.
"I-I'm alright," she said with a weak nod. Clearing her throat, she attempted to straighten up, but slumped again wearily. "It could have been much worse. At least the wound closed over. But not all the layers are back. Still a little raw."
Cliff nodded his understanding, shooting out another hand to steady her when she withered. "Hey." He nodded at Jon, gesturing for him to outstretch his hands. The process of moving her without jostling her wings was time-consuming, but neither human seemed to mind.
A gentle look entered Jon's eyes once she was in his grasp again. He leaned over her closely. Sylvia was startled to find that she was getting used to being constantly cast under the men's massive shadows.
"Are you still in pain?" he asked quietly.
Shifting to find a more agreeable position, she smiled softly. His concern for her was more than enough to raise her spirits after the draining experience.
"I'm fine. Mostly just tired." She was reluctant to admit how much the spell had affected her. Although it felt nice to see him worry for her, it also brought a twinge of guilt. "I was afraid the hole wouldn't close all the way. I'll still have to hold off the flying for a little bit."
He smiled, showing off those perfect white teeth of his. "Damn, I'll just have to hold you, then," he teased, trying to inject some levity.
Cliff slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. "I'm going to go cook something or… whatever. Sylvia, you had something on your mind, didn't you?"
The statement was casual, but there was no mistaking his faint smirk on his way out the door. Sylvia's mortified gaze followed Cliff until he disappeared into the hallway. She glowered, contemplating possible methods of revenge. But she didn't fail to notice that he was giving her an opportunity. Or merely teasing her.
Expression softening, she looked up at Jon. He looked confused, and it only took a moment before he redirected an expectant frown at the tired fairy lying in his hands. Her insides clenched longingly, but… it was ridiculous. Still, she could express her concerns for him without taking it much farther. The fear of Cliff being wrong about Jon's feelings for her was too great. She decided to put her words in a way that would hopefully not reveal her pining for him. Only friendly feelings. Concerns.
