THE REBIRTH

THE REBIRTH
Andrew's Pov

I wake up for the fifth time, to the light of morning.

I sit up in bed and yawn, determined to ignore the potential looming discovery. Whatever it turns out to be, there's no use worrying about it now, especially when it could turn out to be nothing.

I walk over to the window, staring out of it like I was last night. The air is warming, there's the occasional bird chirp and the morning sun beams against my skin feels like the whisper of fingers. My phone is in my palm but I haven't looked at it, not yet.

I always say I want to start my mornings like this, taking in the sun rays like a pampered plant but I often forget because of one thing or the other happening in my life.

Angel will be awake by now too, if she doesn't want to miss her checkup. And she isn't coming here after it either because she'll hang out with Hank. Her boyfriend, I scoff.

I asked him to do it when I woke up for the third time last night and he made sure to let me understand that he was going to do it anyway. Which annoyed me a little, but all that matters is that she's getting the checkup she might need.

Immediately my phone pings with the set notification signalling that she’s on the move, I text her, promising her a surprise. I know it will motivate her and keep her mind off whatever they need to do. She likes the feeling of something to look forward to, more than the actual surprises itself, I wager.

She's so cute, I chuckle.

I can almost see her now, lips in an indignant pout because she wants to know what it is right now. But her eyes would sparkle with the opposite urge, to be kept on the edge and made to wait.

Now. . . what do I get her? I have a few hours probably tomsevide and get it delivered.

Some pretty jewelry would be the easiest thing that a woman would appreciate but Angel doesn't wear jewelry, not even a little pin in her hair, which is surprising to me. She hasn't even asked for any, hasn't looked at a piece of it twice. She must not have worn them a lot before the accident, evidenced by her unpierced ears.

Daphne wears a lot of jewelry that sometimes she dangles and tinkle when as she gesticulates in the videos she makes.

Daphne. . .

Fuck. I squeeze my phone in my hand, feeling the metal hard in my grip. I think I hope it's not true so nothing has to change. Because of it turns out that she was the wrong woman all along. . .

I shake my head, reminding myself of my resolve to ignore this whole thing and force myself back at the task at hand. Angel's gift.

She does need some couches but I feel like that's too practical for a gift she'll spend the whole day waiting for. I still need to do that for her, but she'll have to choose what she likes. Although after a long day of being poked and prodded, Angel might not want to choose the texture of her couch.

I know what will work. I'll hire someone to make whole layouts she can choose. That's one problem solved, now back to the original one. I groan out loud. I'm usually good at gifts. . . which I'm coming to realize is because half of them jewelry.

I yawn again, simultaneously stretching. I can’t ouyt it off any longer before I'll start to get anxious so I click on my phone to check on the PI.

There are no new messages after she accepted the job yesterday.

I sigh at myself. Of course there isn't. Even if she's a wielder, what could she have possibly unearthed overnight? If there is something to unearth, that is.

My phone rings in my hand and I take my yes off two birds flying around each other to look at it.

It's Anthony.

I guess that's my cue to start the day. Shutting the window, I pick up.

Before I can get a word out, Anthony is already speaking. “Good day, Andrew. What's going on?”

What? I don't understand his fucking question so I ask, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why has nothing been done about the people you said you'd take care of.”

The time in his voice freezes me to the spot. I stare at the blank wall in front of me for one blink, then two and three. My nose twitches.

Is this some sort of a joke? Is there a hidden camera in here to get my reaction? He's querying me? Him? Query me? Like I'm a messenger boy he found sleeping in the job? “I am not at your beck and call Anthony.”

“I understand that Andrew but—”

“No, I don't think you do,” I cut in firmly. “If you did, you wouldn't call me up immediately after your morning shit to ask me why I haven't taken out your trash.”

“You said you would. We had a deal.”

I let out all the air in my body, taking those few moments to gather myself. This won't do, this won't do at all. “This is now more a favor to you and you know it.”

“No—”

The word flow out of me, nonchalant even as I knock him down. “Maybe when the playing field was somewhat equal because I was laying unconscious in that hospital bed, it was a deal. But all this has definitely tipped in my favour now that I'm standing.”

“You can't be fucking—”

“It might be in your best interest not to finish that sentence,” I snarl.

For the first time since this godforsaken phone call began, this must be first time Anthony pauses to fucking think.

“You have much more to be afraid of than I do. If it came out that I killed your father, it would be annoying having to keep the bastards that would try to retaliate at bay, definately. But if you came out, oh mighty Laith,” I mock, “you'd be dead in a week, especially as you don't yet have a foothold.”

I don't mention his paramour because that was a deal I'm honoring. And also because at this moment, if he mentions Angel, I will actually explode. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt to shut his hole and not bring either of them into this.

Anthony pauses, and for a full minute there's silence on both ends. I don't say anything, do t even attempt to break it. I've said what I want to.

Anthony takes a deep breath and his tone definitely gentles as he says, “I meant no disrespect, Andrew."

“It's now Cosmos to you.”

With a start I realize what I said. My eyes widen and I immediately drop my head, so he doesn't see the surprise in my eyes at my own words, before remembering he can't see me at all.

Did I just dust of that cloack and throw it over my shoulder? Am I sure about this?

But I can't pretend Downtown isn't sucking me back, that I'm infact not already entangled in it again.

I need to be ready to stand against anything that might crawl out of those vermin infested streets, seeing as I already have two targets on my back.

And even if I'm not completely sure, A
nthony doesn't need to know that. So I don't take it back.

“Yes Cosmos, sir.”