Special - Ch 4
Friday, I made sure Charlotte was alone in the accounting department before approaching her. Who knows what she might be juggling, and I didn’t want to embarrass her a third time.
I stepped into the office and caught sight of her at a desk near the back of the room. Her black hair was twisted into an intricate braid down her back, woven and tied at the bottom with a gold ribbon that fluttered in the slight breeze from the vent beside her.
She was chewing on the end of a pencil and staring at a ledger on the desk in front of her. She twisted her head one way then the other, looking undecided.
“Hey,” I said, draping an arm over the edge of her cubical. “How’s your day?”
Dropping the pencil and flipping the ledger closed, she looked up at me with an expression so guilty I almost laughed. “Andy! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Are you alright?” I gestured at the closed book on her desk. “You don’t have to feel guilty for doing actual work at work.”
My voice trailed off at the sight of a gold powder shimmering across the desk. It looked as though it had blown out of the book as it closed.
Her eyes followed mine and she flinched. “Sorry.” She swiped a hand across the desk, leaving a clean spot. “The — eraser leaves a mess.”
I was pretty sure the dust hadn’t come from an eraser, but I let it go, brushing the rest of it away. “Are you getting us caught up? You made pretty quick work of the inventory lists the other day.”
She relaxed and glanced at the computer screen in front of her. “I’m almost half done.”
“What?” I leaned over her shoulder and searched the screen. “We were six months behind, and you got three months of entries done and re-categorized in one morning?”
“Is that bad?” Charlotte folded her hands in her lap. “I should have had it all done, but…” she looked up at me, “I was distracted.”
Unable to believe what I was seeing, I scrolled through the entries, mentally working through the categories and expenses. “It’s not bad, Charlotte, but if you keep working this fast you’ll be out of a job in a week!”
That made her thump her head on the desk, and I resisted a chuckle when she banged her forehead against the book.
“Slow down. That’s what dad always tells me. But I can’t.” She rolled her head sideways to look up at me. “You made everything speed up.” She touched her chest, and I exhaled like I’d been kicked. “In here. You made everything…crazy.”
I had no idea how to respond to that, and I didn’t have the courage to admit she did the same to me.
“Should I go?” Stupid! I mentally kicked myself.
She rolled her face back down and waved a hand. “No. It’s too late for that.”
“Okay.” I drew the word out and pulled up a chair. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”
Her back stiffened before she rolled upright in her seat and swiveled toward me. “You still want to go out with me?”
“I think that’s what I just asked.” Tilting my head, I regarded her confused eyes. “Tomorrow?”
“Where are we going?”
“Is that a yes?” My lip curved, and I lifted a hand.
Her eyes flicked between mine as though looking for a reason to think I was lying. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
I pushed out of the chair and slid it back under the desk next to hers. “Tomorrow. Is ten AM too early?”
She looked up at me, finally starting to relax. “No. That’s fine.”
“Wear comfortable clothes. It might be muddy.” I winked and left her gaping at me. “See you in the morning.”
At exactly ten the next morning I knocked on her door, expecting her to be running behind. But before I could pull my hand back, the door swung open.
“Come on in.” She stepped aside and gestured to the couch. “I made coffee. Would you like some?”
“Thank you, but I’ll pass.” She closed the door behind me, and the silky smell inside her apartment once again made the hairs on my arms stand up. It was like fingers ghosting across my skin, heightening every one of my senses.
Suddenly, I could hear her feet on the carpet as she crossed the room, feel the breeze generated as she passed me. The colors of her living room shimmered as though everything was dusted with a shiny powder. I looked at Charlotte and…
I shook my head. “Charlotte?”
She turned, and her eyes widened. “Oh no.”
“Are those…wings?” I stared at her as my mind tried to process what I was seeing.
Over the tops her shoulders, and fanning gracefully to each side of her were the wings I’d seen in her shadow. Almost completely translucent and delicately scalloped at the edges, they curved above her head and flowed almost to her knees. They twitched, sending an iridescent gold sheen glittering across their coppery green surface.
I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Though the sight surprised me, now that I’d seen them I couldn’t imagine her without them. Somehow, they fit her.
“Oh, these? I forgot I was wearing them.” She glanced over her shoulder with a nervous laugh. “They’re part of a costume I was trying on before you got here.” She backed away as the wings stilled. “I’ll take them off then we can go, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, still confused by my body’s overactive responses. Everything seemed brighter, richer. I tried to sort through what was happening.
Though I had refused the coffee, I could taste it on my tongue, and the smell drew me into the tiny kitchen as she disappeared into a room down a short hallway.
Without thinking, I opened a cabinet, took down a mug I somehow knew was there, and poured myself some of the coffee. I had never been much of a coffee connoisseur, but I picked out notes of chocolate, orange, and a hint of spice.
Staring into the cup, I shook my head. What’s happening to me?
“Ready?” Charlotte re-appeared, without wings, and I was oddly disappointed.
“Sure.” I set the cup in the sink and followed her to the door. Listening to her light footsteps, I found myself soaking in these new sensations. When the click of the door sounded like a gunshot, I flinched.
Charlotte watched me with a look of apology. “We should go. I made too much perfume again. Is it making you feel sick?”
“Not exactly.” Out in the hallway, the overload of sound and light calmed a bit, and I didn’t jump this time when she threw the deadbolt. “I just felt a little odd for a moment. It’s better now.” I offered her my arm, and we exited the building. “What’s in that perfume anyway?”
“Nothing you would probably recognize.” She hedged.
I closed her in the car and hoped whatever she was wearing wouldn’t have the same effect while I was driving. It was kind of nice, but overwhelming to be so intensely aware of everything all at once.
I opened the door and relaxed when the light scent rose above the leather but wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as it had been in her apartment.
“Have you been to the arboretum here in town?” I cracked the windows, hoping the fresh air would clear my head the rest of the way.
“No. What’s that?”
I smiled. “Technically, it’s a large garden with a collection of trees for scientific study. But in practice it’s a huge botanical garden with all sorts of plants, trees, and natural wildlife.” I felt the air in the car thicken with her scent and quickly rolled a window the rest of the way down, glancing at her. I was nearly overtaken with the desire to stop the car and kiss the heck out of her. “Did you just spray more of that stuff?”
“No.” She stared at me unflinchingly this time. “You did that.”
“What?” I shook my head. “How?”
She was silent, and when I glanced at her she was twisting her hands nervously in her lap. “Can we get to the arboretum first?”
“Okay.” We rode in silence for a few minutes, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful her wings were. “So, the wings. What is the costume for?”
“I’m a pixie,” she said simply.
“A pixie? For a festival or something?”
“Or something,” she muttered, then sighed. “It’s a tradition in my family. I’m sure you’ll get to see us all sometime.”
“I think I’d like that. They looked pretty real. Where did you get them?” It had been mesmerizing watching them twitch almost as though they were alive.
The thought of her with real wings should have weirded me out, but instead I found myself disappointed they were fake.
That makes no sense. Of course they aren’t real.
I’d never been a fan of fantasy type movies and had always thought cos-play was something people did because they wanted to be something they weren’t. I couldn’t explain why, but somehow I knew those wings were part of her. Fake or not.
“They’ve always been mine.” She bit her lip, shrugging. “I’ve had them my whole life.”
“So, your parents gave them to you?” I asked, digging for an answer that made sense.
She brightened. “Yes. They were a birthday gift.”
I parked in the main lot and walked around to open the door for her. Though the sensations weren’t as strong, the cacophony of birds, insects, and rustling leaves was much louder than normal.
Trying to block out the distraction, I watched her face when she saw the expansive garden of flowers and shrubs in front of us. Her hand tightened on mine, and she looked up at me in wonder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and I felt like I had just handed her the keys to a castle.
For the next three hours I followed her down path after path as she pointed out trees, plants, insects, and flowers, often describing a medicinal or edible attribute for each one.
She held my hand, and I basked in the childlike delight she took in every new sight. Even though some of the plants had not yet revealed their leaves, she identified them easily.
“You sure know a lot about plants.” I pulled her to a stop. “Why accounting? Why not botany or something like that?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I already did that. I wanted to do something new.”
I frowned. She was far too young to have had both careers. “How long did you do that? It couldn’t have been long.”
Her discomfort grew, and she looked away. “Longer than I should have I suppose. But it was nice working with my parents.”
I nodded, understanding dawning. “So, your parents are botanists, and you worked with them?”
“Yes.” She straightened, smiling again. “I worked with them until I finished school. It took me longer than most of my kind.” She flinched in that way she did and sighed. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Already growing suspicious of her curious word choices, seconds later I stared dumbfounded as thousands of butterflies of all colors, shapes, and sizes surrounded her. She giggled and bit her lip watching me.
“What in the world?” The air became a fluttering whirl of tiny wings and color as the graceful insects swooped and danced around us.
“Andy.” Charlotte’s voice was soft, and my scalp prickled when she stepped closer to me.
I stared into her eyes, watching as they widened more than I would have believed possible. Her hands glided up my arms, and my whole body reacted violently in a shiver that embarrassed me.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. You shouldn’t affect me like this.” She cupped my cheek.
“Like what?” My voice broke, her touch making me feel like I’d lost my breath.
“What you smell isn’t perfume.” She tilted her head. “It’s a pheromone my body creates when I’m happy. Or attracted to someone.” Her brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be affected by it, but you are.”
My breaths came shallow, and I was intensely aware of every inch of her. “What are you doing to me?”
She took a step back and the feelings subsided, leaving me aching to draw her back to me. I tightened my hands into fists to keep from reaching for her.
“I didn’t mean to do this, but you did something I can’t resist.” She took another step back as the butterflies continued their intricate dance around us.
They swarmed closer, forming a bubble of color and movement that blocked out everything but her.
“What did I do?” I whispered.
“You were kind to me.” Her rich eyes softened. “Be honest with me, Andy.”
In that moment, I knew I would tell her anything she wanted to know, I knew it would be impossible to lie to her.
“Of course.” I reached out and threaded my fingers through her hair, letting the silky strands slid between my fingers.
“Why were you so nice to me?”
Her question surprised me, and suddenly the intense sensory input dulled, leaving one clear answer in my mind.
“Because I like you, Charlotte.” I closed the distance between us and cupped her cheek in my palm. “You’re beautiful, smart, and funny.” I couldn’t hear or smell anything, and it confused me for a moment, but her hand covered mine and I rested my forehead on hers. “I don’t know what’s going on today, and I’m sorry I’ve been acting a little strange.” Like imagining you with real wings, I thought. “But I brought you here because I knew you would love it. And…I really like you.” I shrugged.
At some point I must have closed my eyes. When I opened them, there were tears on her cheeks.
“You really mean that.” She sounded surprised.
“Yeah.” I breathed. “I do.”
She stepped back, and the arch of butterflies expanded around us, now a solid wall of gentle movement about seven feet high. Above us, the sun light sparkled like glitter had been tossed in the air.
I looked up in wonder, then let my gaze fall back to Charlotte. She was watching me with her head tilted, as though considering what to do next.
“Do you promise me you won’t freak out if I tell you a secret?”
Looking at the wall of insects surrounding us, I realized, like seeing her wings, it hadn’t occurred to me to think it was strange. I held up my palms up.
“This hasn’t freaked me out, and it makes no sense. I think I can handle whatever you want to tell me.”
She drew a deep breath and dropped her arms to her sides. “Promise.”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “I promise.”
I should have been prepared for what happened next, but I wasn’t. Charlotte turned sideways, her eyes locked on mine, and I watched in astonishment as the elegant, paper thin wings I’d seen earlier gracefully unfurled from thin slits in the back of her top.
They glinted almost painfully in the sunlight, as though dipped in pure gold. Yet they remained translucent and fragile looking.
“A birthday gift.” I whispered, and she smiled faintly. “You were born with them?”
“Yes,” she replied softly. She lowered the wings, but didn’t hide them. They folded in on themselves and lay like a cascade of shimmering fabric down her back.
“Pixie? You said your costume was a pixie.” My heart pounded with the implications, and I struggled to keep my promise not to freak out.
“I am a pixie, Andy.” She walked toward me and took my hand with a tense smile. “You promised not to freak out, remember?”
“I’m not freaking out,” I stammered, and she giggled.
Her hand was cool against my skin, and I watched as she turned my palm over and, with a gentle brush of her finger, drew a line down my forearm from elbow to wrist. I gasped at the sensation that ran through me like fire, then froze in astonishment.
A row of butterflies landed on the invisible line, tickling my skin. I shivered and they took flight.
“It’s pixie dust.” She blew across my skin and the shimmery powder floated into the air. “It was what you saw on the ledger book earlier and in my apartment.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s kinda magical. Since I met you, I seem to have an overabundance of it, so I used it to help me get all that work done at the store. I can’t exactly explain how it works but it helps my mind.”
When I didn’t respond, couldn’t find words to respond, she touched my arm. “What are you thinking?”
I met her eyes. Even though the past few minutes had left me shaken, I was more curious than anything. “I don’t know what to think.”
“That’s probably normal.” She released me and bent to touch the ground.
When she did, a large bush unfurled from the ground and I jumped back. It grew until it was as tall as I was and about five feet wide.
“People will need an explanation for the butterflies.” Charlotte gestured to the swarm around us. “Not everyone is as open minded as you.”
Dumbfounded, I nodded, and stepped back as the bush burst into bloom. The butterflies cascaded into it, leaving Charlotte and I standing in the open.
Around us was a crowd of eager children and adults all pointing and taking pictures of the fluttering tree. No one seemed to notice us as we wandered away.
I was silent on the way back to the car, and once inside, the soft smell of her relaxed me. I looked over when she took my hand. The question in her frightened face was obvious.
“I think I need some time to sort this out in my head.” She didn’t flinch and I was glad. “I’m not freaked out.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she squeezed my hand. “I understand.”
I started the engine and backed out. We were both quiet on the ride back to her apartment, and I walked her inside.
“Thank you for an amazing day.” She leaned against the wall. “I hope we can do it again.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “I think I would like that, but I need a little time to recover.”
She laughed and pushed away from the wall to unlock her door. “I’ll see you at work Monday.” Her eyes shifted to mine. “I still have a job, right?”
I snorted. “Yes.” Unable to resist, I stepped forward and touched her cheek. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
Her eyes drifted closed and I pulled away as the now familiar desire to kiss her threatened to drag my lips to hers.
When I dropped my hand, she opened her eyes and her gaze caught on something, or someone.
“Hello, Buck,” she said.
“Charlotte.” He was leaning in his doorway again.
“Thank you again, Andy.” Her voice was resigned as she pushed the door open and stepped through. “I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Of course,” I said, glancing between the two of them.
She smiled at me, then lowered her chin and glanced at Buck. “I like him.”
Buck nodded, his expression wistful. “I know.”
'Special' is unpublished and unedited. Short stories may or may not be complete and may end on a cliffhanger. All works are the sole property of Michelle Bolanger and published through Risen Fiction. Copyright 2025 Michelle Bolanger. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be copied or reproduced without written consent from the author.