“Mykail.”
“Clark,” he greeted in similar fashion, though he appeared nervous. “How are you?”
“Well, thank you,” Clark said, his tone also stiff and uncomfortable. “You?”
“Well.”
“Okay,” I said to try and break the tension, “are you sure neither one of you are hungry?” I asked, realizing it was going to be extremely awkward waiting for Becca with the two of them barely trusting one another.
The time was uncomfortable and slow, but we filled in Mykail on what we had discussed and showed him the new notes, telling him what we knew. He was curious if we had figured out who was helping, but we still had no idea.
When Becca finally did come over, I told Mykail to wait in his room so we could prepare Becca as best we could before she saw him.
I opened the door and invited her in, trying not to let my nervousness show in my smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey there,” she greeted back. When she saw Clark, she blinked and hesitated in her step. “Clark,” she said, shocked. “I didn’t expect to see you here…”
“Yes, well, if you’re worried, you don’t need to be,” he assured with a shy smile. “I’m on Lily’s side.”
Becca breathed a sigh of relief, grinning widely. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—I mean, it’s just—”
“I know, we’re both in the Commission and all,” Clark said, understanding.
“So…then I take it this is a study session?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said, walking with both of them into the kitchen and sitting down. “Do you want anything? Something to drink or eat?”
“No, I’m alright, thank you,” Becca assured. “You know, I found out yesterday that our parents are going to the same event today.”
“Really?” I chuckled. “Small town…”
“So…before I forget,” Clark said, turning to Becca. “I trust you, but I want you to understand that you do not know the Commission like we do, so…I’m hesitant to include you.”
“Geez, Clark, way to break the ice,” I groaned.
“No, I understand,” she said. “I mean, I’m really nervous about the Commission, and I’m sure my fear is not a good thing in this kind of situation,” she admitted. “But if the Commission is taken out of the picture, I will feel a lot better about our country.”
“Do you really mean that?” Clark asked. “Do you have a secret that would cause you to be taken into the Commission?”
“Maybe,” she said shortly, her tone clipped to tell him not to press the matter. He sighed and folded his hands together, squeezing his fingers nervously.
“Alright,” he murmured. “Then can I ask that you do one thing for now until we know how this will progress?”
“What’s that?”
“Will you keep your ears open for the rumors about kids taking down the Commission? Let us know what the general sentiment is, if people are supportive, indifferent…”
“I can do that,” Becca agreed. “No one has been talking about the Commission being taken down, but people around school have been noticing how intense the Commish Kids have become. I guess it was the whole thing with Miranda, huh?”
“It’s gotten ugly, yes,” Clark admitted.
“Also, we need to find a way to actually gather everyone who is really dedicated to take down the Commission,” I told her. “We need to start looking up meeting places and then figure out how to weed out the ones who are really serious and the ones who might turn around and tell Dana.”
“That will be difficult regardless,” he grumbled. “Dana is terrifying, and if he scares the right person enough…” He trailed off. “We will have to think very carefully about what we want to tell everyone. The less people know, the more likely we are to win.”
Becca barked a laugh and we both turned to her.
“What?”
“It’s just kind of ironic, if you think about it,” she said. “You want to lead a revolution against the Commission because people don’t know what happens inside, but you don’t want the people within your revolution to know too much.” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s just funny how survival works sometimes.”
An awkward five second pause passed before I turned to Clark with a purposeful gaze. He sighed heavily again.
“Speaking of knowledge,” he said, standing. “It’s time you understand a little more about the Commission.”
“What do you mean?” Becca asked, fear clear in her voice.
“Don’t worry, we’re not taking you there,” he said with a nervous laugh. I stood as well and smiled weakly.
“Remember how I told you that the Commission tests on people and turns them into weapons?” She nodded. “We’re going to show you one of them.”
Becca’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped a little, but she made no moves to stand.
“Where?” she croaked.
“Here,” I told her. “He’s in the house. He lives with my family.”
“Why?”
“It’s…kind of difficult to explain,” I told her. “Once you see him and your shock wears off, we’ll tell you more.”
Becca still hesitated before standing and walking slowly around the table, following me while Clark trailed behind. My stomach was knotted. I was just as nervous as Becca.
We reached the top of the stairs, but rather than going to my room to do my hair and makeup for Archangel as we had done in the past, I led Becca the other direction and stepped up to the still-open cage door of Mykail’s room.
“Becca, promise me you won’t scream,” I hissed.
“Okay…” she said meekly, clearly not confident in her oath.
I stepped into the room and smiled apologetically at Mykail who was sitting on his bed, his wings resting behind him. He looked extremely nervous as well.
I watched Becca reach the door, staring at the bars, confused, before she looked into the room. She jumped and gasped.
“Oh my God…”
“It’s alright,” I told her, motioning for her to step in.
“But, h-he…he looks…what are those?” she asked, her voice thin.
“Take deep breaths,” I advised, walking to her and wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She nodded, drawing in deep, shaky breaths. “This is Mykail. He’s a part of my family.”
“Hello…” he said meekly.
Becca froze. “He can speak…”
“Yes,” I tried not to chuckle. “He’s perfectly safe. I promise.”
“Are those…” Becca turned to me, her eyes wide as she pointed. “They look like w-wings…”
“They are.”
“But that’s…no, no, that can’t be real. You’re teasing me and it’s not funny,” Becca said quickly, retreating a step. I remembered my first time seeing Mykail and my near-hysterical confusion, so I tried to be understanding of her behavior, but it still bothered me.
“They’re real,” Clark said behind her. “And they work. The Commission created him like that.”
“Created him?”
“Well, changed him after they captured him,” Clark admitted sheepishly.
“They turn people i-into…angels?” she asked, looking between the two of us.
“No,” Clark answered, stepping into the room to stand next to Becca and me. “Mykail was given wings. Some are given other abilities or changed in other ways.”
“Are they real?” Becca whispered to me. I smiled and motioned to Mykail.
“Go see for yourself.”
“No…” She shook her head, laughing nervously.
“It’s alright,” Mykail said, standing slowly so as not to startle Becca further. “I don’t mind.”
I pushed Becca and smiled as she nervously approached Mykail.
I let her process, allowing her to walk around Mykail and touch his wings and ask him to move them. I felt that she was handling the situation very well, considering. Judging from the small smile on Clark’s face, I assumed he was thin
king the same.
A few minutes later, when she had sated her curiosity, Mykail offered for her to sit down and the questions began. Becca asked about the experiments and what we knew about them. We told her that every Commission family had one living with them, and that we were planning on breaking others out to reveal to the public as a way to bring light to the atrocities the Commission of the People had committed.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent trying to calm Becca and allow her to process everything. We told her it was understandable that it would be a while before she would want to talk to us because of everything we dumped on her, but she promised that she would keep quiet, knowing the danger she was in if she said anything.
I was nervous about sending her home, but I knew I had to give her space.
An hour after she left, Mark came to pick up Clark. We had agreed to start working diligently the following day, meaning that that day was our last of talking about our revolution. We had to take steps toward making it happen.
The sun was setting in the autumn sky when I finally closed the door behind Clark and locked it. I sighed and leaned my head back. There was no backing down now. I could not go back on showing Becca who Mykail was. It was all over. My course was set.
I walked back to the back living room, where Mykail stood, looking out at the patio through the glass doors.
“Okay…” I started simply, stepping to his side.
“That went well,” he said. I barked a laugh.
“You think so?”
“I do, actually,” Mykail chuckled. “I think she’ll keep her ground. She might be shaken up, but she didn’t scream or faint, and that’s always a good sign.”
I giggled. “I guess that’s true.”
My smile faded a little when I studied his expression. He had a painful look of longing on his face as he stared into the backyard.
“How long has it been since you’ve been outside?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t remember,” he murmured. “Even the time I had in the Commission wasn’t the real outdoors. It was all artificial…I just…” He sighed heavily and dropped his chin. “I’m sorry.”
I looked outside and then opened the door.
“Come on,” I told him, grabbing his hand. He smiled, but stayed put, still holding my hand to keep me from moving too far.
“I can’t, Lily,” he whispered. “The tracers in my body will tell Dana immediately that I went outside.”
“Just one step,” I told him. “Just over the threshold. No further.”
“No, Lily.”
“Please?” I pressed. “Unless he has sensors placed in the thresholds, Dana won’t know unless you step away from the house a few feet. Just over the threshold won’t do anything.”
I actually did not know to what extent Dana would know Mykail’s actions, but I was certain that one step would not hurt. We were making moves against Dana as it was, and if Mykail could not even step over the threshold, then we would always be bowing to Dana’s commands even when he was nowhere near us.
Mykail looked at the metal strip of the threshold, nervous. I squeezed his hand in reassurance. I wanted to see him smile when he felt the air of the outdoors again. I had seen him staring out his window often, but I knew that taking that one step outside would be so much more satisfying than what that little window could provide.
“I’m right here,” I told him gently.
Slowly, he lifted his foot and stepped over the threshold, flinching at the cold stone on his bare feet, but the smile that spread across his face was more than worth the danger. He looked relieved, filled with wonder and happiness at the simple task. I was sure I even saw tears in his eyes as he stepped out, his head bent to stare at his bare feet on the slate porch in disbelief.
I squeezed his hand and he looked up, his eyes bright with elation.
“Just look for a minute,” I whispered, turning to the setting sun over our tall backyard fence. We remained for an indeterminable amount of time, holding hands, standing in the cool autumn air, watching the oranges of the sunset permeate into reds and deep purples and finally fade to the navy of the night sky.
“We should go inside,” Mykail whispered when he felt me shiver. I nodded, stepping back, trying not to notice my frozen toes and fingers. He walked in after me, his hand still linked with mine, and closed the door.
“Thank you,” he whispered sincerely, leaning forward and kissing me gently, which made me forget entirely about my chill, chasing the feeling away with warm bliss.
He pulled away and ran the back of his fingers over my cheek.
“Can you do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Can you undo the cuffs on my wings so I can have a bath?”
For some reason—probably hormones—my heart raced and I felt myself blush hotly.
“O-oh…” I breathed, unable to get my brain to think of anything better to say.
“I’m sorry…” he said, also nervous. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…it’s just…I feel gross and I want to bathe, but…”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I cleared my throat, scolding myself for not being smoother in the situation. “Can-can you, you know…do that on your own?”
We stood in awkward silence, both of us looking anywhere but at one another. Mykail let out a long exhale and I laughed quietly, biting my nail nervously.
“Okay, this is awkward.” he chuckled brokenly.
“I guess it really shouldn’t be,” I said. “I mean…we’ve…”
“We’ve never done anything remotely close to bathing,” Mykail said with a laugh. “It’s okay, I’ll just—”
“No,” I interrupted. My cheeks felt like they were going to catch fire from blushing so fiercely. “I mean…I can…”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” I told him, finally meeting his eyes. I wanted him to know that I was not merely saying things to make him feel better about his embarrassing predicament.
When he did not move or say anything, I squeezed his hand and turned, guiding him to his room. Even though I was acting brave, my heart was fluttering and my stomach was twisted tight with apprehension, excitement, and adrenaline. My hormones were taking control, but I didn’t care.
“I’ll start the bath,” I offered, stepping into the bedroom, finally breaking hands with him. I flew into the bathroom faster than I ever knew I could move and rapidly turned on the water before turning to the sink drawer where I knew my mother kept the keys to his cuffs. Mykail could not unlock the cuffs himself, so my mother did not worry about keeping the keys in the only place she really needed them.
As I was checking the water temperature, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Mykail stood in the doorway, wearing his boxers.
He shrugged. “I think this is probably best.”
I smiled and nodded in agreement, trying to keep calm, stepping away and motioning to the tub.
“Is this the right temperature?”
He walked forward and the room got smaller, but it was not uncomfortable. It was the same feeling I got when we kissed—a warm, secure feeling of being surrounded by tenderness and affection. He gently dipped his fingers in the water while I desperately tried to stop myself from looking him over hungrily. Maybe I did need to worry about my hormones taking over…
“It’s perfect.”
To distract myself from staring, I removed the surprisingly heavy cuffs from his wings and set them on the counter before turning to his back again. I found myself staring at the creases of muscle in his shoulders and the dip of his spine into his lower back. The white of his wings outlined the area so perfectly, I could not stop my scrutiny.
“Are you alright?” he asked, turning his head over his shoulder, the tendons in his neck protruding and making my heart race. I never knew such a simple movement could be so sexy.
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered too quickly. “How does this usually work?”
He fell silent, s
haking his head.
“I feel like it would be more embarrassing if I told you how your mother bathes me,” he said slowly. I made a face at the beautiful lines of his back.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
Mykail took a step forward, which was a good thing because I almost jumped on him before the movement broke my trance. He gently put one foot in the water before stepping in completely and sinking into the water, which gently lapped at his belly as the tub continued to fill.
I was still for several long moments before I cleared my throat and grabbed a washcloth and the shower gel, kneeling next to the tub and squeezing some gel onto the rag, more than eager to touch the beautiful skin.
“I can do that,” he said, reaching for the cloth as I pulled it away.
“Not for your back, and around your wings you will need help,” I pointed out. There was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to touch him. He chuckled and his hand dropped into the water.
“Alright…”
I dipped the rag into the water and rubbed it together to get the suds forming before placing one hand against the front of his shoulder and pressing the rag to the skin around his wing. I gently started rubbing the rag back and forth, watching his skin move slightly. I moved over the main joint of the wing to the middle of his back and neck. He lifted his wing and extended it so I could duck under and get his back. I was touching those beautiful lines and curves around his spine that I always admired. I moved my hand back and forth across his skin with the cloth, my eyes followed his spine down and then back up to his shoulder blades, his muscles strong and taught from the weight of the wings.
“Um…I think that spot is clean…” he whispered.
I quickly moved to scrub the rest of his back, feeling my cheeks flush again.
I finished cleaning his back far too soon for my liking and had to hand the rag to him so he could wash himself. He took it with a shy smile and I ducked behind his back again to rinse off the soap, splashing water onto his skin and entertaining myself by watching the droplets raced down his back.
When I could no longer realistically have an excuse to be behind him, I straightened and turned off the water, the tub three-fourths full of warm water. I remained by his side, watching him scrub down his arms and chest, which was almost too much stimulation for me. I was beginning to worry I would burn a hole in his skin with how intently I was staring.
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