Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Michael wasn’t sure when he fell asleep last night. He only knew that he woke up in his usual pajamas. A comfy shirt with a caterpillar knitting a sweater on it and a matching pair of comfortable pants, so he must have been human. His glasses slipped off his face at some point. And for once, the screeching buzzer of his alarm didn’t wake him up. It was something pressing into his back that made him roll over and then roll his shoulders. The morning sunlight pricked at his eyes and he slowly groaned awake. A squint to read his bedside clock, it was a little after eight. He hadn’t slept in too much. There was still time to get ready for his date with Sara. A chuckle, the thought came so easily to him. He hadn’t entertained the idea of a relationship in literal years. Not until last night. Michael slipped his glasses on, the world returning to focus as he stretched, one pair of arms over his head, the other reaching for his hips.

Alarm raced through Michael as he lurched up right. He looked down at his hands, they were bugged out, insectoid! Two lower insectoid arms lifted his shirt, to reveal themselves from their comfortable confines. His upper hands then snapped to the top of his head and found the slender butterfly antenna standing at attention. A look over his shoulder, no wings yet, but an unmistakable hump on his back from could only be that spike. One pant leg was feverishly pulled up and revealed his legs to still be human. He scrambled to the bathroom mirror to see his reflection as he yanked the shirt over his head and discarded it onto the floor. A bizarre halfway point between man and bug greeted him. His eyes had changed, but his face hadn’t yet. Chitinous plating was starting to emerge at his shoulders, along his sides, and around his hips. Human flesh was still showing towards the center of his torso. He used his lower arms to pat down the inside of his pants and underwear. That was all still human, for now. Twisting his body, Michael was able to catch sight of the lone, jagged black spike sticking out of his spine.

Too soon, way too soon. Not yet he needed to get back to the fields first! He was supposed to be meeting Sara at a metro station. Then they would ride together to the edge of the city, take a rideshare a bit further out, head for privacy and then finally emerge as their butterflies selves! Michael blinked and saw his full butterfly self in the reflection. A frightened gasp escaped as he looked over himself. No, still in this bizarre half way state. He then scowled at his reflection, one upper hand gripping the small sink while the other pointed at it, “Okay. Yes I’m excited to fly with her. And find the others again. But I already heard someone scream when I flew back the other day. I need you to stay hidden. Just for a bit longer. An hour, hour and half tops!” His reflection frowned at him, upper arms crossed and the lower ones resting on its hips. “I’m not calling you a monster,” Michael added with his lower arms crossed, one upper hand still holding the edge of the small sink. Anger softened into negotiation, his free hand now relaxed and open, “Not anymore, but I know how Sara and I will be perceived.”

He then ducked into his closet and grabbed the torn work clothes from when he first took flight. All four arms moved in perfect coordination, the lower pair donning his dark dress pants as the other pulled his white dress shirt on, only pausing long enough for his lower arms to thread through the rips they had made three days ago. Back to the bathroom, he continued to get dressed, his reflection showing his true self again but he talked to it all the same, “I’m even making it easy this time. No need to rip through clothes. I'll wear a jacket to hide the rips. And then you can come out.” It slightly annoyed him how well his four arms coordinated dressing him, one pair securing and smoothing his grey argyle sweater vest as the other fixed his black tie into place, Michael breathed deeply, his antenna already flexing to trail down the back of his head as he grabbed the comb, “I want her to see my butterfly in person. But I have got to stay human. Just a bit-”

His phone chimed in rapid bursts causing his antenna to stand at attention again. The comb was swiftly abandoned on the sink's edge and Michael hurried back to the bed where his phone was waiting. Sara had sent several messages according to the lock screen. His pointed thumbs still dexterous enough to unlock his phone, the chitin shell covering them were thankfully still registered by the touchscreen. Three messages had come through, one asking if he was awake and the next asking for him to call. Michael skipped the last message and called her without hesitation. After only one ring she answered, her voice shaky, “Michael?”

“Sara?” He quickly questioned, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. It sounded like she had been crying, “Sara, what’s wrong. Are you alright?”

“I didn’t change back,” she whimpered while keeping her voice low, “Michael… Michael, I’m stuck. As a… a sorta butterfly.” A broken sob was heard through the phone, “H-how do I change back? I thought sleep would help. But it didn't. I woke up still bugged out. I’ve been trying for hours. Nothing’s working. Someone will see me.” Another desperate sob came over the phone followed by a plea, “Tell me you have a trick. Please. I’m scared.”

Not her as well. Michael’s mind buzzed with more questions than answers as panic raced up his spine, “Are you still in your room?” The dark chitin shell began to claim the rest of his body, his face began to fuzz, his now slender insectoid legs shifting as his transformed feet sought a new digitigrade stance, a twitch along his back and near his tailbone went ignored, “Can you fly? Do you have a clear shot straight into the sky? If you’re fast, no one will see you. They'll think it's a trick of the light.”

Another sob followed by a confession, “I’ve never flown.” Sara’s breathing hitched again, “Help me, Michael. I’m scared. My father’s at work. My mother went to the market. But she’ll be back, she’ll come check to see if I’m gone.”

The phone slipped from his hand and clattered across the floor. Michael's back arched as his massive, bright blue wings emerged and his transformation into a butterfly completed once more. He panted heavily as he gripped his slender frame, a quick glance, at his wings and then down to the bug abdomen trailing behind him like a bizarre tail. He dropped to the floor next and snatched the glowing phone from beneath the nightstand. The terror in Sara’s voice had grown by the time he got it back to his ear as she whispered if he was still there. Michael answered, “Yeah. I’m still here. Dropped my phone for a second.”

His wings started flapping, creating a whirlwind in his apartment. Stacks of papers took flight and spiraled across the floor, sticky notes fluttered as they clung to floors and walls. It wasn't enough force to get him airborne, but plenty to get his muscles primed for flight. He looked over his shoulder at the shimmering wings, and an idea was struck. He then turned his attention back to his phone, “Sit tight, Sara. I’ll fly to Silver Bay.” His wings flapped again, another rush of air circled his apartment and tousled his hair, “It shouldn't take long. I’ll come get you, my butterfly.”

“Wait, what?” Sara quickly questioned in disbelief, “W-We just met. You’re not even hesitating?”

“Nope,” Michael replied while checking the fire escape just outside his bedroom window.

Her voice reverted to a small and trembling state, “You’re… you're really doing this?”

Michael’s voice remained steady as he fiddled with the window lock, “Yep.”

Her voice cracked on the next words, “Okay. Okay… you stupid, beautiful butterfly idiot. Just, please…,” Sara then whispered, “Please hurry.”

The call ended without fanfare, his phone shoved back into a pocket. Michael forced the small bedroom window open to its maximum height. It was still going to be a snug fit for his wings. He wormed his way through a few times already, now it should be easy. A twist at the right angle, legs stabilizing him on the bed, the extra arms helping to lower his torso enough to get these massive things through. He crawled onto the fire escape head first again and managed to pull himself the rest of the way out followed by quickly closing the window again.

And now for the easy part, Michael kicked off the shaky metal platform and darted straight towards the open sky above. He heard a scream followed by a shout, “What was that!” But he knew his wings would be too fast. The city quickly shrunk below him and then vanished from sight as he broke into the cloud barrier, the calm sky welcoming him like an old friend. His back arched as he grabbed a breeze and headed west. Another flap to get himself on the right path. Silver Bay couldn't be that far by flight, the metro train from his apartment was a short ride.

His mind went back to Sara, the fear and desperation in her voice. It fueled a fury Michael didn't know existed within him. And it gave his wings all the more power to propel him through the sky. The cool breeze rushed past his face and the momentary fog on his glasses quickly vanished as open sky stretched around him. Adrenaline rushed through his veins while his mind raced to recalculate just how risky this was.

A laugh ripped out of him, “What is wrong with me?!” But his heart already knew the answer as he soared towards Silver Bay, “I’m in love!” He declared to the wind with another laugh, “I’m in love with a woman I met just last night! That's what's wrong with me!”

The clouds above him thinned, sunlight breaking through in golden rays. Below him, the city unfolded into a living map, “Sara’s right,” Michael spoke again in disbelief. He steadied his pace, he couldn't risk exhaustion and dropping from the sky until they were both far from civilization, “I am an idiot. I guess I'm her idiot!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sara cowered while wrapped in several bedsheets in the warm confines of her childhood bedroom, the place that had once been her refuge now a too small cage. The familiar floral curtains her mother had chosen years ago were drawn tight, shutting out all but the thinnest slivers of late spring sunlight to pierce the dark. Her ripped pajamas from last night were buried in a pile of clothes somewhere on the floor. Frantic, she had dressed in the first outfit her hands landed on, a pair of ash blue jeans and a soft cream blouse. The hope that fresh clothes would convince her butterfly side to go away quickly faded when the partial chitin shell on her shoulders remained.

A low hum rattled from the aging air conditioner as it kicked on. The sudden noise made her flinch, her breathing pause, and caused her to curl tighter into herself. Only the lack of footsteps allowed her lungs to work again. She sat on her bed with her back pressed firmly against the bedroom wall, knees drawn up tight, and the bed sheets binding her and covering her head in a makeshift cocoon. But it wasn’t working, her efforts remained in vain.

Tears welled in her dark brown eyes, every blink causing another to fall. From her elbows down, her hands were insectoid and plated in chitin. She feverishly tried to rub and scratch it away, her softer human flesh becoming raw near the transition points. Sara had even resorted to trying to bite the shell off until the pain made her stop. The thin antennae were flattened under the bed sheet hood but still refused to slip back into her dark black hair.

Another creak made by the house. Sara froze, her ears suddenly sharp. Only her own heartbeat, she still had time. Her frantic efforts resumed, moving to scratch at her shoulders now, as her eyes feverishly flitted around the dark room. The floral curtains dutifully blocked the balcony doors, a cluttered desk holding her computer monitor, the PC silent just underneath, a fabricated report covered part of the keyboard, and a pile of medical books were stacked on the opposite edge. More strands in her web of lies. The same as those in her bookshelf. Old textbooks, tattered notebooks, a glossy MCAT prep guide, untouched binders, a dusty manga collection and fake trophies on fake shelves for a fake girl living a fake life.

A wooden dresser with bronze knobs with a slender mirror stood opposite the bed. Several small figurines, some old stuffed animals she had since childhood, and a small jewelry box sat atop the dresser, flanking the wooden framed mirror. Sara briefly caught her reflection, yellowed eyes with purple iris looked back at her. She whimpered and quickly looked away, quickly resuming her futile attempts of removing the chitin trying to encase her again. Over to the bedroom door, still decorated with a poster displaying a music idol she once fawned over. The folding closet doors remained open, neatly hung clothes lined the rail along with the hanbok from last night, now back in its dry cleaning bag.

Another groaning pipe, another breath caught in her throat, but still no footsteps to be heard. Sara whimpered again as she glanced down at her phone. Michael hadn't called back yet. He said he was coming. To do what, Sara had no clue. She gnawed on her hand again, pressing further until pain forced her to stop. Her mind started to race, what if he wasn't? What if Michael had changed his mind? They had only met last night. He had no reason to make such a risky flight! A fresh sob caught in her throat. Sara switched hands and tried to force the other away instead, desperate to ignore the writhing at her sides.

Then her eyes flicked back to the dresser mirror. A once hot room suddenly ran cold, her efforts screeching to a halt. Her reflection wasn’t copying her movements anymore. The mirror began to dull at the edges while gathering smoke. A cold, sinister grin full of sharp teeth smiled back at her. Her reflection shedded the blanket cocoon, its antenna now freed. It rolled its shoulders and stretched as two more insectoid arms unfolded from its sides. Pitch black chitin encased its body, its face quickly gained deep black fuzz, and its eyes became white slits. And then, a pair of jet black and blood red wings unfurled from its back. Sara’s head snapped over her shoulder, her wings weren’t there, the binding bedsheets still keeping them in place.

Sara then heard her own voice. Not in her head, but from the mirror, "He's not coming." She looked back at the reflection. It laughed and Sara snapped her hands to her chest. Horrostruck, she watched as her reflection crawled out of her mirror and then neatly sat on her dresser, lower hands holding the edge and its ankles crossed. It stretched again, red and black wings briefly fluttering as it folded its upper arms into its lap, the picture of a queen on her throne. It then addressed the frightened woman before her, "Michael’s gone. Do you really think someone would risk themselves for you? You know he won’t. No one ever does. Not for you."

Sara whimpered, her grip on the blanket cocoon loosening. A fearful shiver down her spine followed, “Y-you’re not real. G-go away!”

The shadowy monster giggled softly, and gracefully slipped off the dresser. It stood tall and proud on the carpeted floor, wings unfurled for all to see. The sharp toothed grin returned, “Should you really be yelling? So eager for your mother to come in and see this?” It made a sweeping gesture towards Sara as it curled one clawed hand close. Sara froze and held her hands over her mouth. The figure continued, its voice low and cruel, “Do you really think she’ll still call you her daughter? Or will she finally see you for who you really are? A mistake. A shame. A liar. A freak.”

“S-stop,” was all Sara managed to croak out.

It confidently walked closer to her bed, “Think you can lie your way out of this, Soo-ah? Oh but wait.” Sara winced and whimpered, her chitin plate spreading, the hood of the blanket slipping off and allowing her antenna to stand tall once more. She reached up to fix it, but instead of familiar skin, her fingertips brushed against something she was trying to contain. Silky fizz, wide and rigid cheekbones, a snout that flexed under her palm. A gasp tore from her throat as she began patting her face in panicked disbelief. A tug at the silky soft fuzz followed by a wince of pain confirmed it was real. Only her jaw, as always, still bore any resemblance to what she once was. The monster laughed as it spoke again, “Soo-ah was their perfect daughter. Not this bug sharing her voice.”

More voices suddenly flooded the room. Sara looked around in a panic as they emerged from the shadows. Her mother’s disappointment rang out first, sharp and clear, “You were supposed to be someone, Soo-ah.”

“Always hiding,” the thundering voice of her father called out, “Always weak! How many lies!? You are nothing but a shameful mistake!”

Sara clasped her hand over her ears.. Her eyes closed as she curled in on herself, “No… please… I-I can explain..”

“Can you?” the reflection turned monster questioned her, “Can you really explain this you freak!” Her own voice cut her to the core. Two chitin covered insectoid arms burst through her shirt below her normal arms. The bed sheet cocoon was loosened by their appearance. Sara had to muffle a scream when she saw them as they flexed and then rested palms flat on the bed. They acted like they were always part of her and were now helping her press her back into the wall.

The monster circled closer to the foot of her bed, “And we mustn't forget,” it whispered with that sinister grin, “Your life's second biggest lie. The lectures, the silence, the pity behind your back. You weren’t smart enough. You knew that.”

Sara’s throat felt dry,” I.. I tried….”

“Did you?”The monster questioned while staring with a knowing smile, “Or did you just hide in a bathroom stall? Waiting to be caught. Waiting to be found. Waiting to become an experiment. Waiting for someone to put you out of your misery? Oh no, my dear. All you did was spin an ever growing webs of lies!”

Another sob, Sara’s lower arms gripped her legs but it was too late. They shifted as well, becoming slender, longer, and stretched across the bed for more room and a new resting place. Her feet cracked and reformed into insectile and digitigrade. Sara’s eyes then quickly flashed to her phone, the screen still unlit. Michael said he was coming. He had to be. The monster barked a laugh and leaned into the foot of her bed. Sara scrambled away on all six limbs, the movement coming too easily. The bed sheets slipped from her back as she found refuge over her pillow, unable to break eye contact with this diabolical feign.

The monster giggled again, its lips peeling back to show its sharp teeth once more, “And how could we ever forget. Your new boy toy. He won’t come. You know he won’t. He’s smart. And you’re not. He’s an accountant, remember? He’s already calculated everything. Flight time, exposure risk, likelihood of being seen. It’ll all be too great. He’s long gone.”

Then, the monster elegantly sat on the mattress, legs tucked under the bug abdomen trailing behind it, lower hands folded in its lap once more and wings still out stretched. Sara risked a glance at the phone. Still dark, still silent. She feverishly tapped the screen, no new notifications. Another giggle from the shadow monster and Sara’s eyes darted back to it, “But you’re not scared of me,” it purred, “Are you? You’re scared because I’m right. You’re the lie. And I’m the truth. I am all that remains when the mask finally cracks.”

A low laugh slowly rose as it taunted her again, “Soon, your mother will come home.” It turned its head to look at the bedroom door, “She’ll open that door. And see this freak show in her daughter’s bed.” The white slit of an eye darted back to Sara and it turned to face her again, “And then, a scream that could cross the ocean.” The monster grinned again, revealing the multitude of sharp teeth once more, “Next comes the cops. The military. The scientists. You’ll go viral. The Bug Girl of SIlver Bay!”

Sara shook her head, “No… no… Michael-”

“Lied,” it answered sharp, quick, and certain.

The pressure became too great, the itch could no longer be ignored. Sara’s back arched, the back of her cream blouse ripped open and her red and black wings appeared. She grasped her fully transformed body, her mouth open, trembling, but no sound emerged. A glance over her shoulder, confirmation that they were there.

Another airy laugh from the shadowy monster. It inhaled deeply and then sighed, “Ah… there you are. Enjoy your last moments of freedom, little butterfly.”

Sara curled in on herself, tears now streaming and cutting trails through her fuzzy cheeks. Her antenna curled towards her forehead, wings trembling as the soundless dark closed in around her. Her voice cracked through her sobs one last desperate word, “Michael….”

Chapter Text

Up high in the sky, Michael continued his flight. The patchy clouds offered little cover, but the wind moved fluidly around him, his wings effortlessly maintaining flight between flaps and long glides. On occasion he would dip out of the cloud barrier to catch sight of the metro line he was using to maintain his bearing. Silver Bay quickly came into view, the water shimmering its namesake in the morning light along the coast line. Michael cheered a silent victory, he had been faster than the metro. Plus there were no crowds to deal with either. Michael slowed his pace, his flight pattern changing into a lazy circle above the city as he fluttered just inside the cloud veil.

A startling realization quickly slapped him as a single swear slipped his lips. He had no clue where Sara actually lived. Last night she had said the bay side. This place was called SIlver Bay! That didn’t exactly narrow it down. He caught a breeze and glided over to the bay side. It was just as he feared, too many neighborhoods, apartment complexes, and condominiums to pick from. Was she closer to the water or the commerce side? The boardwalk or the shipyards? Further north or south? His eyes darted frantically as he dipped beneath the clouds, scanning the rows of nearly identical rooftops, trees, and backyards. Back into a circling flutter, Michael scanned the ground with no clue to be found.

One of Michael’s lower hands dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. All four hands came together to steady it, fingers trembling as he found Sara’s number. The signal flickered, one bar, then nothing, then back again. He hovered high above the city, holding the phone out like an offering, his breath hitching in a whispered prayer. A steady signal locked in. He hit call and pressed the phone to his ear, both upper hands braced around it as if sheer will could keep the connection alive, “Come on, Sara,” he murmured. “Pick up.”

Sara’s phone lit up, casting a bright light into the otherwise dark room. Her eyes snapped to it and there was his name on the buzzing device. The monster’s smile vanished. It buzzed twice more before Sara snatched it up in two hands and answered, “Michael?”

“Sara!” He quickly answered back. Relief surged through him, “I’m over Silver Bay. Where’s your house? What’s your address?” Sara recited it fluidly. The number and street etched into her memory. But Michael muffled a hiss behind his teeth, the map app was refusing to connect this high in the sky, “No good! I can’t get the app to work up here. Give me a landmark, describe your house.” Michael’s eyes flitted over numerous residential buildings below him, “Do you have a backyard? Are you closer to the water or the shops? Do you have a balcony? I need something. Anything!” He then added with clear strain in his voice, “Please. So I can find you before your mother gets home!

But her mind went blank. The shadowy figure using her own voice once more with glee, “Oh dear. He doesn’t know where you are.” A sinister laugh was heard again as it smoothly slid off the bed and returned to its full height, towering over Sara, “What did I say?” It slowly stalked the length of her bed, Sara closing her eyes, trying to will it away. The monster continued, “He won’t find you in time. Your boy toy is going to turn around and leave.”

Fresh tears welled up in Sara’s eyes as she clung to the phone. She turned away from the monster and looked at the floral curtains blocking the sun as she gathered her thoughts. Her voice trembled as she forced it past the fear, “Th-there’s a small balcony. Outside my bedroom. On the second floor. Facing the water. There’s a backyard garden below it. With roses, and a bird bath.” Her eyes darted around for anything else she could give him, “Yellow. My house is yellow. Like a lemon. With white trim.”

Michael dipped just under the patchy cloud cover, forced to quickly scan as his wings worked to maintain flight. The rooftops started to blend together. Every other house seemed like it had a garden. Most with flowers, he struggled to make out the finer details this high up. And balconies, why did everyone near the water have a balcony! “Is there anything on your balcony?” He then quickly spoke again, “Wait, hang on. Yellow. I see… There are several yellow houses, Sara. Can you see the old lighthouse memorial? Or does one of your neighbors have a stone fountain?”

“The lighthouse!” Sare quickly answered, “With the red roof and a statue near its base. North of it.”

Delight was beginning to fill Michael’s voice, “Okay, yeah I think I found you Sara. Can you give me a sign?”

Sara’s breath caught in her throat, “Wh-what?”

“Flicker a light,” he answered. Michael scanned the row of houses below him. His options had finally dropped from thousands to just three. But he couldn’t risk a mistake, couldn’t risk the wrong person seeing him. More ideas were quickly spoken, “Move a curtain. Something that’ll let me know I’ve got the right house and balcony.”

The shadowy monster giggled again, recapturing Sara’s attention, “And so it begins,” its voice dripped venom, “He’s getting scared. Someone saw him. He’s trying to pass off the blame. Making sure they see you, and not him. Why not, you freak! Give the whole bay a wave.”

Sara managed to pull her eyes away from the figure and back towards her dresser with the reflectionless mirror. The small butterfly hair pin she had worn last night was still resting next to her jewelry box. It was silver, and always danced in the light. A fragile thread of bravery tugged her forward. Sara pushed off of her bed and grabbed the hair pin with one lower hand. But feeling the cold metal against her chitin shell caused doubt to creep back in, “Will… will anyone else see me?”

“Not a chance,” Michael confidently answered, “It’s only me up here. I promise, my butterfly. Show me where you are.”

Just hearing him actually wrapped her in a sense of calm. His butterfly. Not a monster, not a freak. Sara steeled herself and moved to the curtain, her wings shut tight over her spine. Then, she slowly threaded the silver butterfly past the curtains and into the morning light. It glinted, she slowly twisted it, watching with care as it shimmered, her ears straining to hear any noise from beyond her bedroom door. Her voice shook as she spoke, “C-can you see it?”

A quick glint of metal, rhythmic in nature caught Michael’s eyes. A smile crossed his face, there she was. He had found her at long last, “Yes! Yes I see it. Okay, now look up. Look for my wings.” Michael straightened up and then tucked into a forward roll out of the mist. His wings flared wide, a burst of blue against the clouds slowly moving across the sky before vanishing as he darted back into cover.

Sara gasped. He was here. He had come for her! And for the first time since waking to this strange terrifying day, a joyful smile crossed her face, “Michael! I-I see you!”

Michael pumped his lower hands in victory, his eyes gleaming, “Perfect! Now fly to me!”

Her heart jumped and the smile shattered back into fear. Her pulse surged as she took half a step backwards into the dark, “I-I told you I’ve never flown!”

“You can do it,” Michael confidently answered, “Your wings already know how. Just trust them. Trust me. I’m right here, Sara. Kick off of your balcony and fly to the clouds. Fly to me.”

But fear froze her in place. Sara heard her own voice hissed in glee from behind her, “My, my. What a delightful idea!” The sinister giggle came again, “Wave those pretty wings of yours, little butterfly. Wave that beautiful red and black flag for all of Silver Bay to see. Show them the truth, at long last. Show them the freak of nature you have become.”

Sara’s legs finally found motion. Backwards, a quaking retreat from the closed balcony doors. She shook her head as she returned to the shadows. The monster resting its fingers on her shoulders and guiding her further inside. “No….” Her heart hammered against her ribs, tears filled her eyes again, even her voice shook, “No. They’ll see…. I’ll be seen.”

Michael felt his heart clench, fear was keeping her chain to a room she would certainly be found within.The ache of knowing she was right there but couldn’t move to him made it hard to breathe. He knew that fear having recently lived that fear. Just three days ago, his body had betrayed him, transformed fully in front of his boss and coworkers. Right where the entire office could see. There’d been no hiding it. No pretending it was just an anxiety attack. His wings had unfurled and the only choice he’d had was to fly. He had thrown himself out the window with no practice, no plan, and only trust that his wings would catch him. And they had. They even carried him high into the sky and introduced him to a world of calm and beauty the clouds contained.

Now it was Sara’s turn, but she was paralyzed. He watched her shadow back away from the curtains, clutching her phone like a lifeline. Her fear was a wall. And she was alone behind it. Maybe it had been fate, or sheer cosmic luck, but they had found each other. And he was not about to lose this woman he had fallen in love with now.

“Sara,” Michael spoke in a plea as his voice struggled to remain gentle against the rising wave of urgency, “Sara listen to me. Focus on my voice, just my voice. I know, trust me I know. It’s terrifying. But you’ll be okay. You’re not alone anymore. I’m keeping watch. There’s no one out here. No neighbors, no cameras. You have a clear shot. Fly to me.”

But Sara couldn’t be convinced, her breathing became quicker. And the monster softly spoke again, still using Sara’s voice, “He’s lying. We both know that. He needs a distraction. And that would be you. He’s going to leave. Your boy toy isn’t going to stick around.” Sara whimpered and backed further into the shadows, her hands clutched the phone tightly.

Michael glanced around, he fluttered over towards the street. Only a passing car for now, but the very next could be her mother’s. He reran every calculation in his head and only one result now remained, “Open your balcony doors.”

The request and the urgency behind it was enough to snap her out of shock, “You want me to what?”

“Open your balcony doors,” Michael repeated. His voice then turned jovial, “We’re going on a date, remember? I’m here to pick you up.”

A date. An agreement made last night after texting back and forth. They were going to fly together today. Sara was supposed to have met him at a metro station in the city. And then he would whisk her away into the clouds. Her wings finally used. She thought back to last night, their secrets so easily shared. Fate had been kind enough to place them in front of each other. Perhaps there was some luck involved as well.

Her heart pounded again, not from fear but love. Here he was, risking it all just to help her take flight. The man she had fallen head over heels for. The first breath of fresh air since she was eighteen. And she wasn’t about to lose him. It only took a few strides, her lower arms grabbing both hands and yanking the doors open and inward. The breeze entered immediately, cool and salty as the curtains fluttered widely. The fresh air swirled inside and began to force away the thick dread. The shadow monster bared its teeth at the sight. Sara then spoke one word as she retreated to the foot of her bed, “....Opened.”

Michael smiled, watching as the curtains fluttered in the bayside breeze, “I’ll be right there.” He hung up, phone safely tucked back into his pocket, and then dove towards Sara's balcony. The wind screamed past his face, his wings expertly angled for descent. He needed to be quick. Just the right angle to clear the doorframe, a properly timed wing flap, then pull his feet forward to land. Too little too late did he realize just how fast he was diving.

Michael’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide in panic as he flared his wings to try and slow himself. Begging for the wind drag to be enough. He yanked his legs forward to touchdown. But momentum and gravity had already won and ruined his calculated approach. The left foot hit the balcony floor too soon. It only served to launch him ungracefully into the floral curtains. His wings snapped back, his hands instinctively scrambled to brace for impact. His upper right hand managed to grab one floral curtain, the other three missing entirely.. It was a poor anchor, the rings snapping off the metal rod. His right foot finally made contact but caught on the doorframe and doomed him.

Face first onto the carpet, four arms bracing for impact as he entered the room with a thud and an undignified slide. The floral curtain folding over his right wing. His wings had opened again on impact, sweeping through the room like oversized brooms. The whirlwind he had invited in scattered several papers throughout the room. A keyboard from her desk was caught and clattered to the floor. A pillow was launched towards the foot of Sara’s bed. Figurines and plush toys once neatly organized on her dresser were toppled and collected on the sliding butterfly boy’s back. He only stopped once his head ended up past the foot of her bed and his legs, bent at the knee from momentum, finally dropped to the carpet with his bug abdomen resting between them.

Sara gasped as he practically launched himself into her room, She ducked and curled in on herself at the foot of her bed, wings flattened on her back and pressed as far down as she could manage. The pillow landed on her back with a soft thud. Sunlight embraced her room, and the hallucination was vanquished. Only when the chaos and clattering stopped did she risk looking up. Sara’s eyes first landed on the groaning butterfly man laying flat on his stomach on her bedroom floor, her eyes locked on him in disbelief.

Michael softly groaned, “Ow….”. His movements were slow, first pushing himself up with four arms and then getting back to his knees. His glasses sat skewed on his nose as he staggered back to his feet, arms outstretched and his vision spinning. There was a collection of soft clatters and thunks as the collected debris slid off his wings and back and onto the floor. His right hands grabbed the curtain still wrapped around his right wing and tugged the light weight off. The large blue wings on his black slowly folded back, fluttering gently in an involuntary check. “Not my best landing,” he muttered as his vision refocused.

Sara looked up at him, slowly standing, her wings cautiously folding back as the pillow slid to the floor. Her eyes blinked in the golden sunlight now filling her bedroom and dust motes danced in the sunrays. Was he actually here? His voice sounded right, even if a bit cracked from the crash landing. And he matched the photo he had sent last night, a single selfie of his butterfly self and the large blue wings now shimmering in the sunlight to match. As his stance righted, it became unmistakably him. That nervous grace, that quiet soul, the same man whose words had made her laugh when she thought she’d forgotten how, whose photo the night before had made her chest ache with something dangerously close to hope. Somehow, after just one meeting, he had managed to steal her heart, gently, effortlessly, as if it had always been meant to flutter after him. Sara then softly asked, “Michael?”

Michael shook his head and readjusted his glasses on his nose. He then turned to look at her, their eyes finally meeting, a smile crossing his face, “Hey, Sara.” He softly answered.

She took a slow step forward, the morning sunlight providing ample lighting for her to see him fully. Sara hesitantly lifted one right hand and reached for him. Her hand trembled, certain he was going to vanish at the softest touch. Michael lifted one left hand and reached for her. Even as butterflies with insectoid hands, only three long pointed fingers instead of five normal human fingers, their hands threaded together with ease. Her heart fluttered, she released her breath in a stifled laugh. He didn’t vanish, he didn’t fade, “You’re real,” she whispered in relief as a smile broke across her face.

“Of course I am,” Michael answered with a smile of his own, “I told you I was coming to get you.” The moment hung in the air, faces softened, the lovestruck look from the night before painted all the same on their butterfly faces. For this brief moment, the urgency that propelled them back together was lost as the dancing sunlight beckoned the world to pause. Sara took another step closer, their antenna curling closer to each other. Her left hand slowly rose to brush the smooth velvet fuzz of his butterfly face. Michael’s right hand moved to gently cradle her hand on his cheek as he tilted his head into her touch. A soft loving smile, the same they both wore last night returned. Their lower hands clasped gently together, Michael’s giving a soft tug as she took another step closer. Their intertwined hands from that first confirming touch slipped free but had found each other’s shoulders, each holding the other in a gentle grip, not wanting to let go of this moment the world had granted them.

A slamming door snapped both of them out of the trance. Their bodies stiffen, hands yanked away from each other like caught teenagers. Their antenna instantly snapped back to full attention. Michael had to spin to face the closed bedroom door, Sara’s terror-filled eyes already locked onto it. Time was up, “That’s my mother.” Sara hissed in a whisper, “She’s home!”

“We’ve got to fly,” Michael spoke in urgency, looking between Sara and the bedroom door, “Now. Tie your hair up. It gets windy up-” But as Michael turned to head back for the balcony, his large wings swept across what little remained on her dresser. More papers were scattered throughout the room and another stuffed toy was knocked to the floor with a soft thump.

But before he could speak a sheepish apology, Sara gave him a push, “Move, I need to get to my dresser,” she hissed in equal urgency.” Michael quickly scurried out of her way and back to the open balcony doors. Sara’s four arms move in perfect harmony, quickly brushing and gathering up her long black hair as she ties it into a bun. And her reflection was finally her. Not that shadow that had tormented her, whispering shame and doubt into her ears with her own voice. No more did she see the mask of Soo-ah, the perfect daughter, the star in a multi-year play of lies. At long last, looking back at her was Sara. She threaded the butterfly hairpin into her bun. Her reflection seemed to nod in approval and urged her to go..

Michael kneeled just outside the balcony doors, glancing around, checking for anyone looking at the passing clouds. He held up one hand, a dog walker quickly jogging by on the trail. Michael looked over his shoulder and whispered, “Hold your legs like this, kick off, and your wings will carry you to the clouds. They’ll give us cover. Follow me.”He looked back to the clouds, quickly walked further onto the balcony and then kicked off. His wings flapped once to get him airborne, again to angle him straight into the clouds and just like that, he was out of sight.

The morning air wrapped around Sara’s frame and graced her red and black wings. They stirred, slow flaps, testing and ready to call the sky their own. She looked back into her bedroom, lit only by the sunlight. The hallucination and its whispers of doubt and fear were gone. The stage of Soo-ah’s life, too carefully constructed, so elegantly performed, now laid in disarray. Props were scattered across the floor and the curtain had fallen. Hiding, pretending, obeying, and the mountain of lies, no more did she want that life.

Up ahead, the sky waited for her. The clouds slowly drifted by, with Michael shrouded somewhere inside. The life line she didn’t know she needed, the one person who had seen her for all the falsehoods and rot she carried. And still he reached her, like a lifesaver thrown into the vast ocean. The fear of flight was gone, she trusted Michael fully. And in turn fully trusted her wings to already know how to fly. Sara kicked off the balcony, her wings opening and catching the air naturally. One flap got her airborne, and the next caught an updraft she rode straight into the clouds.

Chapter Text

Up into the sky, Silver Bay quickly shrunk out of sight. Sara didn't dare to look back as her wings carried her with ease up into the protective cloud barrier. A cool mist briefly wrapped around her and then vanished as she pierced through the cloud barrier. Her flight paused as she hovered in awe, red and black wings holding her perfectly in place.

A radiant blue canopy stretched across the world. Below it, the dappled sunlight painted the curling clouds in shades of soft gold, rose, and violet. The air was crisp, cool, and wrapped her in a welcoming embrace. She balanced in place, stunned, suspended in wonder. Her heart, once weighed down by grief and expectation, now beat wild and free in her chest. Everything below was gone. The false names, the obedient smiles, the neatly packaged lies. The performance was over. This… this was real. Tears sprang to her eyes, unbidden, not of sorrow but of release. Of joy. Of awe so overwhelming she could barely breathe. She laughed, choked on it, laughed again, floating in the middle of a painted sky.

And then, her wings took control again. Sara's body fell forward, her wings catching and lifting her again. She was flying. Actually flying! Tears of pure joy gathered at the corners of her eyes, all four arms spread as she felt the wind wrap around her. A wide, unrestrained smile spread across her face. Her body moved instinctively, tilting, angling, and dipping into a graceful glide. Wind rushed past her cheeks, her antenna streamed behind her, and a loud, bright laugh erupted from her throat. Nothing like flight had ever felt more right.

Michael quickly caught up to her, laughing in joy as well, “Like I said! Nothing to it!” His large bright blue wings shimmered in the sunlight as he gracefully flew. Finally, he could enjoy the wind in his wings again. No more fear or urgency to be found, just the joyful calm the sky offered. He banked back toward the southeast, “This way! Follow me!” He darted forward through the cloudbanks, leaving behind a swirling wake in the mist. Sara blinked, still breathless, still full of awe. But her lips curved upward, and she shot after him.

Sara gladly followed, their wings flapping in harmony as they glided above the clouds. They twisted and danced in midair, their dark black chitin shells catching the sunlight causing the hidden jewel tones to shimmer. Smooth glides and quick flaps to maintain flight, Sara called out in pure joy as they flew in perfect harmony, “You didn’t tell me it would feel like this!”

Michael gave a short, joyful laugh of his own. “I wanted to show you!”

With a subtle tilt of his wings, Michael led her into a slow spiral. Sara followed without hesitation, instinct guiding her as they circled each other like dancers in flight. Their wings brushed close, laughter exchanged in glances and glimmers. Blue and sapphire, red and black, they moved in harmony, weaving through beams of sunlight and drifting tufts of cloud. Their wings caught the light like stained glass, casting fleeting colors into the sky around them. A ripple of wind, a shift in pace and yet they remained in sync, two brushstrokes swept across a living canvas. Every so often, Michael looked over at her with a quiet smile, soft and certain, like his heart had waited a lifetime for this moment.

The cloudscape thinned as they neared the edge of the city. Just ahead, open fields stretched toward the horizon. A sea of endless green, dotted with wildflowers, tall trees, and low rolling hills, kissed by the same mid-morning sun that had guided them all this way. It was just as Michael remembered, precisely where he had intended for this date to start. Out here, there were neither roads, rooftops, nor curious eyes. Only peace and the ability to be butterflies with welcomed ease.

Of course, as wonderful and magical as flying was, it wasn't effortless. Michael’s wingbeats had grown slower; his glides stretched longer. Crossing the city twice in one morning had left his wings exhausted, his shoulders now helping them to flap with increasing strain. A sloped clearing appeared below them and Michael sighed in relief, the fatigue starting to wear on him as he angled downward. “There,” he proclaimed in satisfaction, “We’ll stop there. It’s safe.”

Sara slowed beside him, looking down at the blooming meadow below. But her eyes flicked back to Michael as she nervously asked, “Is… is every landing like the one where you exploded through my curtains?”

Michael let out a dry scoff and rolled his eyes. “Please. That was an emergency landing. My calculations were just a little off.”

Sara snorted. “You turned my room into a disaster zone.”

“Technical hazard,” he replied, already descending. “Landing’s not hard. You just slow your wingbeats near the ground. Let the wind help you. Then plant your feet. Graceful. Simple.”

Sara looked at him skeptically, “Uh huh.”

Then, Michael turned into a slow dive. His wings opened wide to catch the wind as he neared the meadow, back flexing slightly to stall his speed. A gentle flap followed and then a little kick of dust. He touched down with both feet, stumbled a step forward, then turned and threw out all four arms and his exhausted wings with dramatic flair.

Sara hovered just under the clouds, uncertainty still painted on her face and twitching in her red and black wings. The grass below looked soft enough. A nervous swallow followed as Michael’s instructions and movements replayed in her mind. She tipped forward into a glide, angled down gently like Michael had done. For a moment, it looked perfect. Then she realized she was coming in too fast.

A gasp caught in her throat. Sara instinctively threw her arms out as she tried to flare her wings. It was too late, her feet already met the grass covered ground. Momentum yanked her forward, head over heels as a yelp escaped her throat. Sara landed first on her back, then tumbled into a sideways roll as her wings folded awkwardly. Her bun had come loose in the chaos, and the silver-and-nacre butterfly pin skittered out into the grass, catching a glint of sunlight before vanishing from view. She finally came to a stop flat on her back, the world spinning and her body stunned from the rough landing.

Then, a laugh poured from Sara’s throat. The kind of laughter that shook through her chest and made her forget the ache in her shoulder or the sting on her hip. “Ow,” she said, giggling. “That was… harder than it looked.”

“Sara!” Michael quickly ran to her, stooping down just enough to snag her hairpin out of the grass with one lower arm. He looked down at her with concern clearly etched across his face, “Are you okay? Did you break anything?”

“Just my ego,” Sara replied as she slowly got her laughter under control.

Michael breathed out a sigh of relief and extended one of his upper hands to help her up, “Well, congratulations. That was a very dramatic first landing. Almost matched mine.”

Sara took his offered hand and pulled herself to her feet, still shaky but also glowing from the inside out. Her hair loose and windswept, cheeks still pink from laughter, her wings fluttering briefly before folding back into place over her spine, “What was yours?” she asked while dusting off her clothes.

He laughed softly, a genuine smile crossing his face at the memory, “I bounced. Like, actually bounced. Tumbled forward like a dropped mannequin, landed flat on my rear and slid. Full on cartoon pratfall.” He mimed the motion with his hands, “I just sat there stunned then laughed. I must have looked ridiculous!” That mental image made her giggle again.

Sara then reached up to fix her loose bun but quickly felt that the pin was gone. Her eyes went wide in panic and quickly darted to the grass. But Michael held up the missing accessory, “Already found it.” Sara sighed in relief and finished fastening her bun. Michael moved to place the hairpin but pulled back, his eyes flickering to Sara for permission. She smiled and gave a short nod. Only then did Michael gently rethread it into the tidy and better secured bun.

They stood together in the quiet meadow, the wind ruffling the grass, sun dappling their wings and illuminating every detail now. Blue and red wings spread wide, neither feeling the pressure or need to hide. And finally, they were able to simply take in what the other had become. Not through a photo or a dimly lit room, but in full sunlight.

Their antenna stood tall, curious but relaxed. Jewel tones continued to dance and shimmer where their chitin shells were exposed. The soft breeze gently ruffled Michael’s short black hair and stirred his outfit suited much more for an office than a first date in a meadow. Sara’s more secured hair remained unbothered by the breeze, her cream blouse gently billowing where her wings and extra arms had erupted through the fabric. The soft grey fuzz of their faces and large yellow compound eyes were a close match, they seemed shockingly normal now. Their height hadn't changed much from the transformation process, Michael still stood a few inches taller than Sara.

A warm blush crossed Sara’s face as she glanced down at her outfit, something quick she had thrown on in desperation without much thought. Her grass-stained blouse sporting symmetrical rips along the side seams, the back likely destroyed by her red and black wings. Even her grass stained jeans had suffered a casualty, the seat of which had been ripped open by the bug abdomen trailing behind her like a bizarre tail. And again she tried to brush away a stubborn speck of dirt that refused to budge. Her eyes then traveled up and down Michael, causing him to tilt his head in confusion. Sara finally spoke, “I feel wildly underdressed for our first date.”

Michael blinked, then looked down at himself. His slacks were wrinkled and dirt-streaked, the white dress shirt and grey argyle vest both sporting rips from his extra arms, the back of his top ruined beyond repair thanks to his large blue wings. The only thing that remained unharmed was the simple black tie around his neck. He gave a sheepish little smile. “Remember last night how I told you I bugged out in front of the entire office? I was wearing this when it happened.”

Sara’s eyes widened, “You turned into a butterfly in that?”

“Yep,” Michael replied tugging at his tie, “Flew out of that window a moment later. Turned out to probably be the best part of that day honestly. With how poorly that performance review was going, I think I was fired anyway.”

A comfortable silence followed, Michael took a step closer. Sara looked at him, intrigued. He cleared his throat, “Speaking of last night. I believe we had some unfinished business?”

Sara’s expression lit up then softened. How could she forget? The warmth of the garden, the soft fading twilight, the floral scents in the air, both of them close enough to feel each other’s breaths on their lips. Hands touching, knees brushing, just a head tilt away. Before they were quite rudely interrupted by her father calling them back inside. Sara took a step to close the gap, “We never did get to finish that conversation.”

The only witnesses now, a meadow full of wildflowers and the warm sun. Their large wings gave a subtle twitch behind them. Michael leaned down a bit, Sara stretching to meet him. Antenna once more weaving between each other, hearts fluttering, lower hands clasping, upper hands resting on each other’s shoulders, and heads tilting just enough. They felt each other’s breaths on their faces again, and this time, there would be no shouting nor slamming doors to stop them in their tracks. Eyes fluttered closed, and at last, their lips were allowed to meet. It was gentle, respectful, and welcomed in a sense of wonder, neither lingering longer than needed. Thank goodness their faces had retained human features post-transformation. They parted, eyes slowly opening, a soft smile on both of their faces. It had been well worth the wait.

Their foreheads lingered close even after the kiss broke, breaths still mingling, antennae gently brushing in a quiet after-touch. Then Michael gave a soft, deep exhale, “I hate to ruin the moment,” he murmured, and rolled his shoulders, “But I need to lay down before my wings stage a full revolt.” He gently broke away from Sara moving to a flatter spot in the meadow. This would do. He dropped into a seated position and then reclined into the grass, wings fanning out beneath him. Tension unspooled as he settled into the earth, his whole body, wings included, sighed in relief. His lower arms rested over his stomach, his upper pair sprawled by his head in a quiet surrender.

Sara quickly moved to join him, laying down in her back and flared wings as well, their heads comfortably close to each other. Her arms naturally found the same resting positions, lower arms crossed over her stomach, her upper hands up by her head, the tips of their wings just barely touching. A quick sideways glance, they caught each other's eyes again and shared a soft smile before looking towards the slowly passing clouds once more. Michael gently nudged Sara’s upper hands with his own, their long insectoid fingers intertwined with each other.

Peace followed as they gazed at the sky. Chirping birds were heard across the open meadow while the wind gently whispered through the flowers and sang through the trees. After a few moments, Sara broke the silence between them, “I… I never thought I could be comfortable. Like this.”

“As a butterfly?” Michael questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Sara answered with a deep sigh, “It was always so… so terrifying.”

Michael chuckled softly, “I didn’t either. Not until three days ago. There’s… something oddly peaceful about it. Being like this. Knowing I’m not the only one.”

A beat passed before Sara posed the next question, “Do you think there are others like us?”

Michael turned toward her, a quiet smile on his face. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Sara’s eyes went wide, her heart skipping a beat. She quickly turned to look at him in disbelief. His face was calm, a twinkle in his eyes proved he was telling the truth. Michael turned his gaze skyward again, and Sara looked as well. His voice was soft as he explained, “Three days ago, not long after I crash landed here for the first time, I saw a group of them. Humanoid butterflies, like us.”

Michael then lifted one lower hand and pointed towards the sky, “There were eight. Up in the sky, right above this meadow.” His hand smoothly dropped back to his stomach, “They were just fluttering. In no real formation. Their wings were all different colors, sizes,and shapes. They just drifted there, like they belonged in the clouds.” His eyes closed as he pictured the eight again. People like him, proof that he wasn’t the only one with this curse, blessing, whatever this was afflicting both him and Sara.

He drew another breath, opened his eyes and continued his tale, “I flew to them. Flew with them. ” A soft smile crossed his face, It was like nothing I ever felt before. I finally didn’t feel alone, like I was some bizarre expectation to nature's rules.”

Sara fingers tightened around his. She knew that fear all too well. And the elation that followed upon learning she wasn’t alone.

Michael continued his tale, his voice full of wonder and joy, “They didn’t speak a single word. They just dance around me, with me. Swooping through the air like it was second nature, it felt like they were teaching me how to use my wings. It felt like I had been invited into some ancient ritual. And I was the newest member they were welcoming. We flew and danced in the sky like that until sunset started to close in.”

But then Michael’s smile faded as he sighed, “There was a green and yellow one, I think he might have been the leader, or something close. He whistled and they started to leave. And I… I hesitated to follow them. A different one, her wings were mostly red and tipped with black, held out her hand to me. Just offered it, I think she was asking me to go with them. But, and I still don’t know why, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to go with them.”

Sara suddenly sat back up and looked at Michael in disbelief, “Why not?”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Michael answered, his voice caught between anger and shame as he sat back up as well. Their wings smoothly folded out of the way and they scooted back a bit to better see each other again. A conflicted look now dominated Michael’s face as he looked at Sara and then back to the sky as anger began to build in his voice, “I didn’t even know who I was at that moment. A man? A bug? Was I Min-jun? Michael? Someone else? Was I just supposed to just-” Michael dramatically swept one arm through the air as his frustration continued to build, “Just abandon all twenty-eight years of my existence? Pretend the last ten years of torment I spent trying to keep this butterfly hidden never occurred? Fly off with a random group of strangers and call it destiny?”

Heat burned through him for a moment more. Michael finally caught himself and had to draw a deep breath to cool his anger before continuing. His voice was now tinged with a soft ache, “I asked for a few days. The green and yellow one, he just nodded and smiled. No words. Then they flew off, vanished into the sky. And I flew back to my apartment.” A soft chuckle slipped his throat, “I even called that stupid place my chrysalis. Maybe it was.”

Sara’s chest ached for him. Under the anger and buried by resignation, his longing was clear. Her next question was more gentle, “Did you ever find them again?”

Michael shook his head, “The next day, I came out here again. Practiced flying. And searched for them during most of it.” A bitter huff was heard, “I must’ve scoured every patch of this field, hoping they’d come back. Praying that I hadn’t missed my only chance.”

“And yesterday…?” Sara questioned softly.

The warm smile returned to his face, as Michael looked at her, “I didn’t get a chance to come out here yesterday. I walked right into a matchmaking dinner trap instead. And met a beautiful woman with a similar butterfly secret.”

Sara couldn’t help but giggle at that remark. It was true, neither of them wanted to attend and pretend to be stars in that ridiculous farce. But this had to have been the best outcome either could have hoped for, “We both walked into a trap. I was told it was just a nice dinner with a family friend. It didn’t even cross my mind it was another set up until it was too late.”

A shared laugh followed, both of them leaning back and looking up at the sky again. Michael’s voice then twinged with guilt, “Sara,” their eyes met again, ”When I asked you on this date. To come fly with me, I meant every word of it. Flying with you was wonderful, incredible. I enjoyed every second of it. But,” he paused to find the right words, “I also wanted to come back here, and look for them again. Hoping that, maybe, we could find them. That, maybe, they would come looking for us.” He then turned away and looked back at the sky, “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

Sara reached over and took one of his hands in a steady grip, “Don’t be, Michael. Flying for the first time ever. And doing so with you,” she gave a genuine smile, “it was magical!” A comfortable silence followed as they looked back at the sky. She then stood up, her wings fluttering and ready to fly again, “Let’s go look for them.”

Michael rose as well, the ache and exhaustion now gone as his own wings gently fluttered, ready once more, “You’re not mad at I hid that from you?”

“Of course not!” Sara answered with glee, “You met others like us! That’s the best news I’ve heard in almost ten years! I thought I was a freak. But now, I’m not. Neither of us are.” She then looked back at the sky and walked in a slow circle, “Do you remember which way they went?”

Michael nodded eagerly, delight taking hold again as excitement filled his body all over again, “Yeah. They headed away from the city and the coastline. Towards the mountains.” He then kneeled, one lower hand on the grass as he prepared to kick off and take flight again, “Let’s go find them.”

Sara mirrored his stance. The breeze began to brush against their wings, ready to carry them back into the sky, “Let’s fly!”

Together, they launched into the air. Twin streaks of blue and red flaring bold and bright as they soared side by side. There would be no more fear, no more hiding, no more seeing themselves as broken or strange.

The sky stretched wide before them, bright and full promise. They flew toward the mountains, toward the unknown, toward hope. And maybe, just maybe, towards others like them. Michael and Sara’s wings moved in perfect harmony, their hearts beating as one, as they soared towards the next chapter of their story.