Silence

Tall buildings stood as far as the eye could see, the tops of which were hidden behind a mist. The air smelled of wet concrete, cigarettes and burned oil. The distant hum of traffic was muted by the heavy rain and wind, with occasional thunder and lightning tearing the sky. Way down below people rushed to their destinations, most visibly eager to escape the weather.

I sat on the rooftop with my feet dangling loosely and elbows resting on my knees. Tiny raindrops smacked the skin while the cold air prickled it. My clothes soaked through. Yet this was preferable to… the place in front of me.

“Whaaaatcha doin’?” A cheerful voice resounded behind me, muffled by the sound of the strong wind. I groaned.

“What does it look like?”

“Grumpy as ever.” Something warm touched my cheek. “Here. Pumpkin spiced latte. It's all the rage now~”

“... Why are you adopting their slang? Wait…” I took the cup. “... Where did you get this? Did you steal it?”

“How rude! I don't steal! My human got it and I borrowed some.” He took a sip of his drink with a pout on his face after sitting down next to me.

“Speaking of… where is he?”

“With his girlfriend. I do NOT want to see that.”

“You'll still hear it.”

“Quiet, you.” Sam grumped, then pulled out something small and round out of his robes. “You won't get a piece of this after being mean.”

“I didn't even ask for the… spiced pumpkin… in the first place.”

He snorted and shrugged his shoulders. We fell into somber silence, watching the familiar sight together.

“... How’s Paul doin’?” He pointed at the figure in the apartment.

“As you can see.” I shrugged this time. “The moment he gets home from work he becomes one with the couch. At least he's walking Frufru.”

“... He lost weight.”

I nodded.

“... You too.”

I waved him off.

“... He's not going to the cemetery? Today's her anniversary, right?”

“He hasn't gone once since the funeral.”

“What? Why not?”

I tightened my grip on the cup in my hands.

“I guess it's too hard for him.”

“You guess? What is he thinkin’?” I felt his eyes land on me, awaiting an answer. Another long stretch of silence followed. “... Wait… do you not…?”

“... I don't. I stopped hearing anything a year ago.”

He bit his lower lip. He looked between me and the apartment a couple of times before propping himself up and stretching.

“I’m cold. Let’s warm up inside.”

I winced. I really didn’t want to yet I knew it was pointless to persuade him otherwise. I flew after him with a sigh.

The inside of the apartment felt stuffy, the faint smell of cold coffee and unwashed dishes left in the sink permeating the air - the one barely open window we entered through wasn’t enough to ventilate the place. The darkness caused by the weather and turned off lamps partially hid stacked books and invoices, takeout containers covering the overflowed trashcan, mountains of clothes on surfaces of every available furniture.

In the center of this mess was a man sitting on a couch with a little white furry ball curled up next to him. He wore stretched out thin clothes with stains here and there of unknown origin. Disheveled hair, unshaven face and hunched back added to the scruffy impression.

Yet the worst part of it all were the blank, vacant eyes. The gaze staring into the silence of the room.

Sam flew through the place unbothered. He looked around as if he was searching for something.

“Where is my favorite princess?” He asked after seeing my expression. I gestured towards framed pictures, all laying face down on the shelves. He frowned, glancing towards Paul and put his hands on his hips with a huff. “Time to get that potato from that couch.”

“How?” He just smirked at my annoyed tone.

“By causing mayhem~” He flew straight towards the sleeping dog.

“Wait, don't. She hates you.”

He let out the gremlin laugh.The one that was always followed by chaos.

“Perfect~” He tickled her nose. Frufru sneezed violently and blinked, confused. “Hi there~”

That was enough. She leaped straight at him with a high pitched yelp. He dodged in practiced motion and fled while cackling maniacally. Paul stayed motionless and expressionless.

“Ah, you wound me, Frufru~” Sam taunted while making a turn behind a flowerpot. She chased after him mercilessly despite my attempts to divert her attention. Both of them ran towards a coffee table with a mug full of coffee standing on top of it.

“Sam, stop!”

As he flew over the table she bumped into it with a force surprising for her small stature. The mug tipped over, its contents spilling on the surface. Dark liquid approached dangerously close to the picture book…

Paul's glazed eyes flared up. He stood up and screamed Frufru's name. The poor dog ran under the couch while he rushed to save the book. In his haste it flipped and fell on the floor. A single piece of paper flew out of it and landed with a flutter.

I heard Sam sigh behind me.

“I figured you two knuckleheads didn’t find this.”

Paul reached for the crumpled paper. As he brought it closer to his face I saw it.

Small, crooked letters. Written with crayons.

“... How did you…”

“I visited you guys. At the hospital.” His voice softened. “Rita asked me to keep watch. She left to… bargain with the Archangel.”

“I don't remember that.” I surprised myself with how weak my voice was.

“Of course not, you were out like a light. Both you and Paul. Workaholics united.” He pointed at the paper. “Lizzie woke up and saw him sleeping. That's when she wrote that. She giggled when she hid it in the picture book, sweet little thing.”

My gaze fixated on the letter. Paul’s grip on it tightened.

“You’re not gonna fly over and read it?”

“... She wrote about the park, didn't she.” I whispered. “The one behind her favorite ice cream shop.”

Sam’s eyes widened for just a brief second before he smiled.

“She sure did. About the doggies and squirrels too.”

A few wet blotches appeared next to colorful letters. Paul’s shoulders shook as choked whimpers escaped his throat. I fought back the stinging sensation behind my eyelids.

“...And the ducks. She was worried they’re cold and hungry.”

Frufru left her hiding spot and approached Paul, sniffing the item in his hand. He turned to her and in a gentle motion patted her head. A sniffle was followed by a long, deep and relieved sigh. Red puffy eyes looked through me towards the window.

I followed his gaze. Rays of sunlight broken through the clouds caressed walls of the opposite building. Whistles of the wind and deafening buzz of the rain were replaced by honking of cars and steady tick tocks of the wallclock. Sam stood in the window looking outside.

“Oh, the weather cleared up. Thanks, Chief!” He waved at the sky, then glanced back at me. “Now you have no excuse.”

After seeing my confused expression Sam smirked and turned around. He stood at the edge of the window sill, his heels barely touching the wood. Stray light beams bounced off escaped feathers as he released his wings. His body shifted backwards and just as he was about to freefall he saluted.

“Go. Go and feed the ducks.”

And the hurricane was gone. A laugh and loud “woohoo” he exclaimed echoed through the neighborhood, as if the whole world was rejoicing.

I felt the awkward tension of the face muscles - must’ve been a long time since I last smiled.

“Showoff.”

I heard rustling of clothes behind me as Paul stood back up. Pages flipping and a soft thud of the book being gingerly placed back on the shelf. Footsteps followed by jingling of the keys. A gentle call of Frufru’s name. The pitter patter of little paws. The creaking of the front door being opened and closed.

Yet the most beautiful sound was steady, loud and strong.

I finally, finally heard it.

The rhythm of a heart that has finally found permission to beat.