Yesterday’s dinner was great, even though my day had started with a nightmare. Today, Michael is coming to visit me so we can talk. I mentioned this to Josh last night, and as soon as I brought it up, his questions about Nick came pouring out like an unstoppable waterfall.
I didn’t know how to explain it—what to say, or even what I could say. To Josh and Leroy, I had told them that Nick had gone abroad to deal with some issues involving our family—family matters, I said. That was the version I gave them. Before my parents left to return to our hometown, Papa had come to our university to explain Nick’s situation. It hurt to admit, but Nick had been dropped from school.
Today, I plan to visit our apartment to clean it up and grab a few things I need. Josh offered to drive me, but I refused. “I’ll just take an Uber,” I told him.
I don’t know how to drive a car, but Nick taught me how to ride his motorbike—a Yamaha YZF-R7. His bike is just as bold and dynamic as he is, sleek and aggressive in its design, mirroring his personality perfectly. I need to check on it while I’m at the apartment, and maybe... I could even use it for a ride.
“Maybe...” I whispered to myself, a small smile creeping onto my lips at the thought.
Sitting on the edge of the sofa, waiting for my Uber, I scrolled through social media, fangirling over BTS. Today’s flavor? Jin, of course!
Jin is effortlessly charming with his broad shoulders and that dazzling smile that can light up any room. His confidence is magnetic, and yet he never takes himself too seriously. He’s always cracking jokes, making everyone laugh, but behind that goofy exterior, there’s a heart that’s as deep as it is caring. Every time I see him smile, it feels like the world becomes a little lighter.
As I’m about to dive into another Jin video, my phone pings. My Uber is just around the corner.
"Time to go," I mutter to myself, slipping my phone into my pocket and grabbing my bag.
The ride to the apartment felt longer than it should have, my thoughts drifting back to Nick, to our family, and the tangled mess I was left to sort in his absence. Michael’s visit later was another worry gnawing at me. What would he have to say about all of this?
The Yamaha bike—the one Nick had left behind—kept creeping into my mind. Its boldness, its power. It was a piece of Nick, and for some reason, riding it felt like the only thing that could keep me close to him while he was away.
Arriving at the apartment, I made my way inside and quickly set about cleaning up. The task was mundane, but it kept my mind occupied. I spent about two hours packing and tidying up, sorting through things I’d need and those I could leave behind for now. The bike—Nick’s Yamaha YZF-R7—was the last thing on my list.
I stepped into the garage and, with a soft sigh, pulled open the door. There it was, parked in its usual spot, waiting for me. A flicker of sadness washed over me. It was like the bike itself missed Nick.
“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, stepping closer.
Carefully, I lifted the cover, revealing the slightly dusty bike. The once gleaming surface now looked dull, the bold curves of its design muted by a layer of grime. I ran my fingers over it, a pang of longing hitting my chest.
“You’ll come with me,” I said softly, my voice almost a vow. “I’ll take care of you while Nick’s not here.”
Gripping the handlebars, I gently rolled the bike out of the garage. Sunlight hit the surface, and for a moment, it seemed to bring it back to life. After locking up the garage, I grabbed one of the cleaning cloths Nick had always used for his bike. The cloth was worn, a little frayed at the edges, but it still smelled faintly of him.
As I began wiping down the bike, memories flooded my mind—Nick’s meticulous care for it, the way he’d always fussed over every detail. I tried to match his precision, though I couldn’t help but feel a little unsure. But I kept at it, running the cloth over the surface, determined to make it shine again.
After a few minutes, the bike gleamed once more, its boldness and sleek design returning to its former glory.
“There you go,” I murmured, stepping back to admire it. “You’re sexy again.”
I stood there for a moment, taking in the satisfaction of a job well done. The bike was ready to go, and I felt a small surge of confidence.
I swung my leg over the seat, feeling a sense of freedom wash over me. My outfit felt perfect for this moment—effortless yet bold, just like the bike. The black leather jacket, cropped and fitted, gave me that edge. The simple white V-neck underneath kept it casual but comfortable, and my skinny ripped jeans added a playful touch. White sneakers completed the look—practical yet stylish, just what I needed for a ride.
Tying my hair into a low ponytail, I grabbed the helmet. It felt heavier than I expected, but as I slid it on, a thrill ran through me.
Straddling the bike, I turned the key and pressed the ignition. The engine roared to life beneath me, sending a wave of power through my body. The sound, deep and powerful, gave me a sense of exhilaration I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I lifted the visor of my helmet and glanced at myself in the side mirror. A smirk crossed my face, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, this is me,” I said, surprised by how natural the boldness felt. “Nick’s going to faint when he sees this.”
With a glance at my watch, I realized it was still early. I could take the bike out for a spin before heading back. Why not? I deserved a little freedom, a moment to enjoy myself.
Pulling the visor down, I tightened my grip on the handlebars and twisted the throttle. The engine hummed beneath me as I pulled out of the driveway and into the streets, the city rushing by in a blur.
The wind tugged at my jacket, the thrill of the ride coursing through my veins. For the first time in a long while, I felt free—unstoppable.
Arwen’s mind continued to swirl as the city passed in a blur around her. The bike thrummed beneath her, its steady hum almost a comfort, but her thoughts refused to quiet.
What is Michael planning to say? The question kept repeating in her mind like a ticking clock, growing louder the more she tried to push it away. She hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of days, and it was unlike him to go quiet for so long. The weight of their last conversation hung between them like a shadow, and she couldn’t shake the sense that there was something he wasn’t telling her.
Has something happened in the circle? Arwen’s grip tightened around the bike handles as the thought crossed her mind. Michael had always been the calm, steady presence in her life, the leader of their group and a trusted friend.
Could it be something worse? She quickly dismissed the thought, but it lingered in the back of her mind like a storm cloud on the horizon. Arwen couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to their family’s legacy than she knew—more to Michael’s role within the Nephilim circle, and more to her own place in it. As much as she trusted him, the uncertainty gnawed at her.
She turned left at a corner, the familiar streets of her neighborhood appearing just ahead. The bike’s engine roared in response to her light acceleration, but the hum didn’t reach her heart.
She glanced at the horizon, her thoughts drifting. Why does everything feel so complicated?
Is it me? She wondered. Am I the one who’s been holding back, not wanting to see what’s right in front of me? The question hung in the air, unanswered. Arwen had always been cautious with her feelings, especially after losing Jaimes. She hadn’t allowed herself to get too close to anyone since then.
With a final glance at the distant skyline, Arwen turned the bike toward home. The city had been her escape, but now it was time to confront the questions that had been swirling in her heart for days. She took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill her lungs and the tension in her body begin to ease.
Whatever happens, I can handle it. With that thought, she revved the engine once more and sped toward home, ready to face whatever awaited her—whether it was Michael, the circle, or something even more unexpected.
When I got home, Michael hadn’t arrived yet. Josh was on FaceTime with his mom, chatting away animatedly. He glanced in my direction as I walked in, and I gave him a small wave before heading straight to my room.
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Kicking off my shoes, I peeled off my clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket, and sighed. A shower was desperately needed—not just to clean up but to calm the whirl of thoughts spinning in my mind.
How am I even going to start this conversation with Michael? I wondered as I grabbed a towel. The weight of the day was already pressing down on me, and the idea of telling Michael about my dream with Nick made my stomach churn. I needed to gather my thoughts, and a long, hot shower seemed like the perfect way to do it.
Just as I was about to step into the bathroom, my phone buzzed with a notification. Curious, I wrapped the towel snugly around myself and grabbed my phone from the nightstand.
It was a message from an unknown number. My brow furrowed as I opened it, and the words on the screen made my heart skip a beat.
Unknown:
Hi, this is Diarmid. I asked for your number from my little sister; I hope you don’t mind?
A smile crept onto my face, unbidden and completely uncontrollable. Diarmid. The mysterious man who had somehow become a permanent fixture in my thoughts had just casually messaged me.
For a moment, I stared at the screen, debating how to respond. Should I play it cool? Be friendly? Or just flat-out tell him he was the first person to make me forget how to use words? I shook my head, laughing softly at myself.
“Let him wait,” I whispered, placing my phone back on the nightstand with a playful grin. He could live with a little suspense. Right now, my shower was non-negotiable.
As the warm water cascaded down, I found myself unable to stop thinking about Diarmid. What kind of person texts like that—so effortlessly charming without even trying? And why did my heart flutter like a bird trapped in a cage every time I thought about him?
I shook my head again, this time at the ridiculousness of it all. First Nick, now Diarmid. My life was starting to feel like a tangled web of complications—and I wasn’t even sure if I was ready to unravel it.
The sound of water filled the room, drowning out my thoughts for a while. But deep down, I knew that once I stepped out of this bathroom, my phone and all the emotions tied to it would still be waiting for me.
After my shower, I stood in my room, still undecided about how to respond to Diarmid's message. I bit my lip, glancing out the window, watching the world outside as if it might somehow give me an answer. My mind swirled with half-formed thoughts—should I be formal, friendly, or just pretend I didn’t notice the message for a little longer?
The sudden ringing of my phone snapped me out of my daze. Startled, I turned and grabbed it off the nightstand. It was Michael.
I quickly answered, putting on a bright tone.
"Hey!" I greeted, a little too enthusiastically, trying to mask my inner turmoil.
"Arwen, I’m downstairs with Rafail," he said casually, his deep voice carrying a calm authority that always made me feel like things were under control.
"Just a sec," I replied before hanging up. Tossing my phone onto the bed, I hurried out of my room.
I had already informed Josh earlier that Michael would be visiting, so he wouldn’t be surprised. As I passed through I glanced into the living room but didn’t see him there. He was probably in his room still on FaceTime with his mom.
Reaching the front door, I stepped outside and immediately spotted Michael and Rafail standing near the entrance. I froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sheer presence they exuded.
Two tall men with breathtaking features stood there, their sharp, symmetrical faces framed by perfect hair. Michael, with his familiar blend of calm composure and quiet intensity, looked like he had just walked off the cover of a magazine. Beside him, Rafail was equally stunning, his sharp jawline and piercing eyes giving him a regal, almost otherworldly air.
"Eye candy," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to clear the thought as I smiled and waved at them.
"Hey, you two! Come on in," I said, stepping aside to let them in.
Michael gave me a nod, his expression softening slightly. Rafail, on the other hand, flashed a polite smile, though his gaze seemed to study me carefully for a moment before stepping inside.
"Thanks for letting us invade your space," Michael said as he walked past me, his tone casual but warm.
"It’s not an invasion if it’s welcome," I replied with a grin, closing the door behind them.
As I led them toward the living room, I couldn’t help but notice how their presence seemed to fill the space, making the place feel much smaller. These weren’t just two ordinary men—they carried themselves with an air of purpose, as if every step they took meant something.
"So," I began, trying to ease the sudden tension I felt.
"Yes, so..." Rafail replied, his smooth voice accompanied by a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his sharp eyes. "Where’s Josh?" he asked, his gaze casually sweeping the room.
"Uh, he’s probably in his room," I said, my eyes instinctively flicking toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.
Michael’s gaze followed mine, and his expression turned serious. Despite the small, reassuring smile on his lips, there was something about his eyes—a quiet intensity—that sent a ripple of unease through me, though I couldn’t quite place why.
Rafail leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as though we were sharing a secret. His ever-present smile lingered, but his words carried a weight that belied his casual demeanor. "Don’t you think it’s safer for us to talk at your apartment?"
My eyes widened, and a nervous knot formed in my stomach. I had completely forgotten that Josh didn’t know anything about the myths, the secrets, or the unraveling layers of my life. Spending so much time with Josh, Diarmid, and others had made me momentarily complacent. But the dream I had of Nick—the vivid reminder of truths I could no longer ignore—brought it all crashing back.
I nodded slowly, biting my lip in thought before standing up. "I’ll let Josh know I’m heading out with you to check my place," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the weight of the moment pressing down on me.
Rafail gave a small nod of approval, his smile never faltering. Michael, on the other hand, simply observed me, his silence far more commanding than any words he could have spoken.
As I walked down the hall toward Josh’s room, my thoughts raced. The significance of their visit—the tension I could feel in the air—told me this wasn’t just about checking on my apartment. Something deeper was at play, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was teetering on the edge of another revelation I wasn’t entirely prepared for.
Reaching Josh’s door, I knocked lightly before opening it a crack. "Hey, Josh?"
He looked up from his phone, mid-conversation on FaceTime with his mom. "Yeah? Everything okay?"
I hesitated briefly before offering him a small smile. "I’m heading out with Michael for a bit to check on my place. Just wanted to let you know."
Josh raised a curious brow but nodded, his tone casual. "Alright, stay safe," he said, though there was a flicker of intrigue in his expression.
"Will do," I replied, gently closing the door behind me.
Walking back to the living room, I took a deep breath, willing the unease twisting in my gut to subside. Michael and Rafail were waiting for me, their tall, imposing figures somehow taking up more space than the small living room should allow.
"Let’s go," Michael said, his voice calm yet firm.
Grabbing my keys from the counter, I nodded and followed them out the door. As it clicked shut behind me, I couldn’t help but feel like I was leaving behind more than just the safety of Josh’s place. Something was brewing, and I had the sinking suspicion that my life was on the brink of yet another seismic shift—whether I was ready or not.
Arwen sat on the couch in her apartment, her body tense as she recounted the unsettling dream to Michael and Rafail. Her hands were folded in her lap, her fingers twitching with the intensity of the vision she had just shared. Michael stood across from her, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her with quiet intensity. Rafail leaned against the nearby wall, his golden eyes locked on her, his expression serious yet curious.
The air in the room felt thick, the weight of Arwen’s words hanging in the silence as she gathered her thoughts.
“It started so strangely,” Arwen began, her voice soft but thick with emotion. “I was somewhere else—not in Josh’s apartment, but in this... place. It was empty, silent, but I knew it. I’ve been there before. The air was heavy, almost suffocating, and there was this pull, like something was calling me forward.”
Michael’s brow furrowed as he listened, exchanging a brief, knowing glance with Rafail before looking back at her.
“I stepped outside,” she continued, her voice steadying as she remembered the dream, “and there it was—the field where I met Nick.”
Michael’s expression stiffened, but he didn’t interrupt, and Rafail’s posture straightened, the glimmer of a smile fading into seriousness as he absorbed her words.
“He was there,” Arwen said, her voice wavering slightly. “Nick. But he looked different—older, as if time had passed since I last saw him. He was sitting under this massive tree, talking to... a woman. She looked warm, comforting, and beside her were two children—a boy and a girl.”
Arwen paused, her breath catching in her throat. “They were... his.”
Michael’s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed, his voice low. “Are you sure?”
Arwen nodded, her chest tightening with the memory. “He called the girl Marian. She called him ‘father.’” She looked down, her hands trembling. “It didn’t feel like just a dream. It felt... real. Too real, like it was a message. Like he was trying to reach me.”
Rafail tilted his head thoughtfully, his usual playful demeanor absent as he observed her closely. “What did Nick say?”
Arwen hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “He... recognized me. He hugged me like I had been gone for years. Then he introduced me to them—her, Talisa.”
Michael moved a fraction closer, his eyes darkening as he processed her words. “To the woman?”
Arwen nodded, her voice breaking with the weight of it. “He said her name is Talisa. She... she knew me too. She smiled at me, like she had been expecting me. I am not sure if this is the Talisa, that we knew”
The room went still, the quiet tension palpable as Michael absorbed what she had said. Rafail stepped closer, his golden eyes full of understanding.
“And the children?” Rafail asked softly, his voice almost a whisper as he awaited her answer.
“They were innocent,” Arwen whispered, a tear escaping her eye. “They looked up at me with recognition, like they knew who I was. But I couldn’t...” She shook her head, her mind unable to wrap itself around the significance. “I couldn’t make sense of it. I couldn’t understand why they felt familiar.”
Michael sighed, his eyes softening. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “This wasn’t just a dream, Arwen. It's a communication from Nick, or from something beyond that we don’t yet understand.”
Rafail’s voice was gentle, yet firm. “Dreams carry fragments of truth, and sometimes, they’re the only way the universe can speak to us. We’ll find the answers.”
Arwen looked up at them, her heart a mix of fear and hope. “You think it was more than just a dream? Something real, something important?”
Michael’s gaze met hers, steady and unwavering. “We need to find out, Arwen. We need to understand what this means.”