Chelsea’s Wings
Kate couldn’t tell if Chelsea’s wings weirded people out, or if they believed that fairy wings were sensitive because they looked so thin and fragile, but it never failed to make her roll her eyes when she saw someone, especially one of their coworkers, take the time to skirt around the clumsy fairy to avoid contact with her wings. She watched as the newest barista in their coffee shop pressed himself up against the counter unnecessarily to make his way around Chelsea, who, as per usual, had absolutely no clue the young vamp was behind her at all.
Despite their dainty look, Chelsea’s wings were quite possibly the sturdiest part of her body, as Kate had come to learn. They looked paper thin, almost transparent, they were a glorious combination of pale pastels, and the smallest fluttering could send a gust strong enough to blow over an empty glass. Fortunately for Chelsea, the shop owner didn’t make her pay for any of the dishes she broke in this way. Kate, with her arms full of clean plates she’d been carrying up from the back, didn’t bother with squeezing around her best friend’s wings in the small space between them and the counter, or waiting for their newest coworker to get out of the way for her to do so. Instead she barreled head first into Chelsea’s wings, pushing against them and grumbling her younger friend’s name, hoping to convince her to move. It was like walking straight into a punching bag. They were solid and definitely had some weight to them, but they were also oddly soft and almost squishy. Almost.
Kate had made a comfortable bed for herself out of the large wings many times over on the nights they stayed up late to watch movies together and crashed at each other’s places. Chelsea didn’t mind in the slightest whenever Kate passed out on one of her wings. Despite losing all feeling in it by morning, and her wing ending up a little swollen for the rest of the day, Chelsea always said Kate had earned the right, what with how many times the nymph had helped untangle her wings. Chelsea was more than clutzy and had a special knack for getting her wings caught on something or in something, or just somehow tangled to themselves. Kate often came to her rescue. In fact, it had been what brought them together as friends. On their first day of school together, Kate had helped untangle Chelsea’s wings from the bus door, the top of the slide at recess, and from her own book bag at the end of the day. From that point on, she’d pretty much adopted the girl as her own little lost puppy.
And Chelsea had proven to be the perfect companion, even after all these years. Despite the fact that she was constantly tripping over her own feet, or her wings large enough to cocoon her whole body in a protective shell, she was the smartest person Kate had ever met. And Kate could only really tolerate unintelligence for long enough to get a good lay out of someone before she was done. And Chelsea never seemed off put by Kate’s perpetual grumpy attitude.
“Chelsea!” Kate yelled as she felt the wings tighten around her. She shifted the plates to rest against her hip, holding them with one hand and used her other to press against the spot on Chelsea’s back, a pressure point of sorts, that would momentarily sap any strength from Chelsea’s wings, rendering her defenseless. Kate knew it wouldn’t actually last long enough to save her, only a split second, and if she wanted, Chelsea could trap her again before she could take a step, but the younger let her go, soft laughter slipping past her lips as she finished making the frappe she was working on. “I’ll get you for that later, Chelsea,” she grumbled as she moved to stack the clean plates under the counter.
Authors Note:
I wrote this short story a while ago. I think I am going to start posting stories to my blog regularly.
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