The Fallen and the Angel

I felt the bite of the cold as I hailed a cab around the corner from Rockefeller Center. And I loved it.

I missed the chill of the Christmas weather in New York. Moving to California for a college specializing in Graphic Design when I was 18, only 3 years ago, I longed for the feeling of winter again. So, every year during the holidays, I came to New York to visit family. Tonight only my second night back in New York and Christmas being about a week away, I figured I would go to see the tree before it got mobbed as Christmas crept closer before crashing into my hotel tonight. I was only staying there until Christmas Eve, and then I was staying at my parent’s house in Staten Island until January 3rd.

The cab pulled up and I paused my iPod. As I reached for the door handle, another incredibly pale hand had gone to grab it as well.

We both looked up at each other, well rather I looked way up and he looked down, me being a mere 5 foot 4 inches, and my breath caught. All I was able to focus on were his sapphire eyes.

Remembering I was in my hometown, I snapped out of my trance and put on a poker face incase this guy was shady, you never know in New York.

“Sorry. I’ll catch the next one.” I said in a monotone voice. I wasn’t really in the mood to fight over a cab. Even though I WAS the 1st person to the taxi. Besides, there was like thousands of taxis in Manhattan, not like another one wasn’t going to pass in another few minutes; I could wait. Or just catch the train.

“No, that’s okay.” A friendly smile crept on his quite perfect lips. “I’m in no rush. Really.” He opened the door for me.

I hesitated. “Thanks.” I hoisted my bag higher on my shoulder, holding it flush to my hip as I tried to hide the wires to my ear buds with my long black, turquise and purple curls. As hot and kind this guy appeared to be, I still didn’t trust him. I was born in this city for Christ sakes. I learned as a damn fetus to trust no one on the streets.

But I didn’t get in. His gaze was so strong I couldn’t look away from him. I took him all in, his roughly 6 foot 2 inches in height, his jet black hair that was long but shaved on the sides, his crystal eyes lined with a faint shading of black eyeliner, making them pop that much more, the perfect straight line of his nose, his milky pale complexion, his smooth inviting lips, the lip ring that was on the left side of his full bottom lip, everything. And with this observation, I felt like I recognized him, but I couldn’t think of where from exactly.

What made this all the more interesting was that he seemed to be doing the same to me; analyzing ever feature of mine.
The cab driver began to get impatient. “Getting in or not?” he snapped in his heavy accent.

“Sorry,” I replied quickly, looking away from the mysterious man beside me, “Getting in.”

I slid into the cab and before I was able to do it myself, the man shut the door for me. I rolled down the window only a small amount, just enough to thank whomever this guy was one last time.

“Thanks, really.” I said.

“Welcome, really.” He replied with a smile. And with this smile, I realized who this man was. It was Andy Biersack.

Notes