She gives me a confused look, and I wonder to myself (with great annoyance) if all of her kind are this slow to comprehend.
“What do you mean by ‘saving me’?” She asks. “I mean… wouldn’t I notice if I was in a life-threatening situation and you ended up saving me?”
I shake my head wearily. “No, no necessarily. Not at all, actually. I usually prevent those ‘life-threatening situations’ before they happen.”
Evs smirks. “Okayyy… are you sure you’re not being a little over-dramatic? Come on, surely I’m not in danger that often.”
I exhale, close my eyes for a few seconds, and try to gain the tolerance that will allow me to get through this conversation without attempting to murder her… an act that wouldn’t end well for either of us.
“You are in danger, or at least in danger of being in danger, more often than you think,” I say slowly. “But you don’t usually notice, thanks to me. My job is to try and prevent as many sticky or risky happenings as possible. You make it very difficult,” I add resentfully.
She looks indignant. “How do I make it hard??”
I groan. “You spend way too much time on rooftops. You climb a tree whenever you get the opportunity, and you’re not very cautious about it, either. You’re entirely too trusting of strangers. You don’t know the first thing in terms of defending yourself-”
“I can defend myself-” she tries to interrupt here, but I plow on. “No, you don’t. Not well enough, anyways. You stay out too late, you trespass on private property, sometimes without even knowing it, you try to pet stray cats with who-knows-what types of diseases-”
“I’ve never gotten sick from touching a cat!” She protests.
“Yes,” I agree, “because I’ve always scared the diseased ones away before you had the chance.”
This silences her momentarily, and she gives me an annoyed look while she tries to find something to say next.
The thing about Eva is that she’s entirely too caught up in her own world. She’s always thinking, thinking, thinking, but not about her surroundings or what’s currently happening around her. She’s pretty oblivious to all of that.
She’s always finding some new place to paint- alleyways, parks, libraries (until someone finds out), rooftops, everywhere. She believes that the constant (and dangerous) change in scenery helps her focus and stay inspired. I think that if she’d be content to paint in her bedroom, it’d be a lot easier for me to help her stay alive. But she doesn’t bother to consider this. Obviously.
I guess that there isn’t anything particularly bad about Eva...other than the fact that she’s pretty annoying, even when you’re not having a face-to-face conversation with her. She’s nice, and sometimes almost funny, even. She does create cool paintings, I have to admit; and overall she has a nice personality. But when you’re forced to watch over someone for the duration of their entire life… Well, let’s just say that after the first three or so years, you start to notice every single itsy bitsy aggravating detail.
And she’s just so reckless. When she was eight, she jumped from her roof and into a large tree. The idea (her idea) was the grab hold of one of the topmost branches and then proceed to swing herself from branch-to-branch until she made it to the ground. What actually happened was that she barely managed to get a good grip on a branch… and then she lost that grip and slid down half of the tree. Luckily, I’m a quick thinker (that’s a necessary trait for this job), and I was able to stop her before she crashed all the way to the ground.
When Eva was ten, she decided to spend the night on the roof of a local building. When the sky got cloudier and the winds picked up, she merely put a jacket on. When the first streaks of lightning and rolls of thunder came along, she curled up under her blanket and did not move. Apparently she had no concerns about sleeping outside (on a roof, no less) during a thunderstorm, but it would look rather bad for me if I let her remain there… most likely to die. So I took the blanket, waving it around so she’d think it was the wind (one good thing about Eva: she’s easy to fool), and let it fly away off of the rooftop. After that, she only took five minutes to decide that she’d better go home if she didn’t have the means to cover herself. My mission was accomplished.
When she was twelve she came near to attempting to “tame” a feral (and probably rabid) dog. At thirteen, she stubbornly held her breath underwater for over a minute...until I forced her above the surface. Later that year, I managed to stop her from riding her bike using only her feet.
That’s basically my existence: Eva makes a stupid decision and attempts to do a reckless deed. Keir steps in, applies logic, sound judgement, and quick thinking, and saves her. Eva doesn’t notice a thing. Repeat.
I hope you enjoyed this third installment of "Wings". Thanks for reading!