ANGELIC KISS (ENG)

Emi woke up early and began frantically getting ready for university. 
“Oh god, do I really have to present all this… Please don’t let me embarrass myself,” she thought, looking at the stack of rolled-up papers on which the final project had been half-written by a divine hand. “Fleya, what even is this handwriting? I can’t understand it!” 

The red metro wagon sped through the tunnel, rattling violently and shaking from side to side like a roller coaster. Emi hurriedly edited her presentation while glancing at the sheet she held in her free hand. Mariam stood holding onto a rail, listening to music through headphones, while Fleya talked to Emi, practically shouting over the noise. 
“Why does her saliva smell so strangely sweet?” she wondered. 

— What if I fail?! — Emi shouted across the whole carriage. — It’s so obvious this wasn’t made by a human! 

— You’ll pass! — Fleya answered. — I’ll help you. 

— How? During the presentation itself? 

— If necessary, I’ll tell you what to say. The professor won’t hear me anyway. 

The announcer called out: Marjanishvili. Completely by coincidence, a tall blonde girl stepped into that exact carriage through those exact doors. 

— Sophie! — Mariam greeted her with a hug. — What a coincidence! 

— Yeah, — Sophie replied. — I didn’t expect to walk into the exact same carriage as you guys! 

At first Emi noticed nothing — it was too noisy. Sophie waved at her. 
“Ah, whatever, she can’t even see me,” she thought, then tapped Emi on the shoulder. Emi hugged her briefly and went back to studying the blueprints. 

They arrived at the university slightly late and took the remaining seats in the lecture hall, which by then was already packed. Emi was called to present first. 

— “Barto Emilia will present to us her concept of a modern townhouse,” — croaked the voice of an elderly but very creative professor. 

Fleya flew toward the presentation area first, as though she had been the one called up, and only after her did Emi nervously walk forward. Her palms were sweaty, she kept squeezing her fingers together, and managed to fix her hair several times before beginning. A huge projector descended from the ceiling, displaying the first schematic drawing. Finally, Emi took the microphone and began speaking, while Mariam and Sophie raised a sign with one hand each that read: “Emi is the best!” 

— I would like to present a townhouse model designed for the outskirts of Tbilisi. This house combines comfort, style, and practicality. The sections alternate between dark and light treated wood, while the facades are decorated with grapevines, creating the impression of ecological and natural housing. Each section is intended for one family, ranging from two or three people to six or eight. Above the second floor there is an attic adapted for living… 

Emi spoke for another ten minutes, quietly said, “Thank you for your attention,” and finished. The hall burst into applause, though some people stared in obvious confusion. 

“What strange drawings…” thought even those who knew absolutely nothing about architecture. 

The professor sat there with a frown on his face. 

— Thank you, — he said. — An interesting concept. The presentation itself was very competent. However, it feels as though you did not complete it independently. One part — I recognize your style — is excellent, I have no questions there. The other part looks extremely strange. I asked for pencil, perhaps pen, but this does not even resemble ink. It honestly looks like it was written in dried blood. And the letters — as though the person had never seen an alphabet before. There are also severe formatting mistakes; I did not teach you this way. It gives the impression that whoever wrote this has absolutely nothing to do with architecture. Unfortunately, I cannot accept the work for now. You know, we are a very creative and liberal university, but not to the point where projects are completed by unknown entities. What you have already written may stay, but the rest must be redone. I’m giving you until the end of next week. Thank you once again. 

Emi returned to her seat looking devastated. 

— It’s okay, just don’t get upset, — Mariam said, leading her outside. The others followed behind. 

— You still did great, — Sophie tried to comfort her. — Most of it’s already finished, you only need to redo a little! 

— I can help you again, — Fleya added. 

— Again? — Emi repeated. — So it can get rejected again? 

— Fine then. I won’t help. 

— Don’t get offended. You understand yourself that it was noticeable. Honestly, what embarrasses me most is being publicly exposed for cheating, although… what exactly did I expect? 

— I really want cherry juice right now, — Fleya interrupted, — or raspberry juice, something sweet, cold, refreshing on the throat. 

— Fleya? — Mariam protested. — Could you at least listen to Emi? 

Sophie looked confused. 

“Who’s Fleya? Who are they talking to?” she wondered, before asking: 

— Who are you talking about? 

Fleya suddenly started trembling all over. 

“I-I’ll have to reveal myself to her,” she thought. “There’s no other option… Okay, it’s fine, she seems nice. I saw her at Mariam’s birthday.” 

Fleya touched Sophie, and Sophie instinctively recoiled. 

“The first touch of a goddess always feels strange…” she remembered Emi saying at the cafe. “Like your skin is burning, but without leaving any marks.” 

— Fleya, is that you? — Sophie asked. — Nice to meet you. Emi mentioned you before. 

— Yes, I’m Fleya. Thank you. 

— I didn’t know you were so… graceful. I had only a vague idea of what gods looked like. 

They stood right outside the lecture hall, where the voices of other students presenting could still be heard. Suddenly the door swung open and an irritated woman stepped out. 

— Stop making such a racket out here! Let me at least hear my son’s presentation! I can’t hear anything because of you! 

— Sorry, — Sophie said. — We’re leaving now. 

They walked away through the corridor — huge, wide, winding like a labyrinth, with roughly plastered brick walls, exposed low-hanging wires, and technical pipes sticking out everywhere. 

— Feels less like a university and more like a factory, — Sophie remarked. 

— You’re actually pretty close, — Emi replied. — This building used to be an industrial warehouse. 

Fleya admitted: 

— I would love to visit a factory someday! It sounds so interesting to see how humans produce things! 

— Seriously? — Mariam smirked. — Hopefully we won’t need one anytime soon. “Marfi” hasn’t gone bankrupt yet! Anyway, where are we even going? Back home? 

— To the cafeteria! I said I want cherry juice! 

— You think cherry juice is sold in every cafeteria? And why cherry specifically? 

— It’s my favorite. 

— Actually, they really do sell it here, — Emi noted. — But Fleya, I’m buying it for you. Don’t steal anything. 

The second Fleya got her bottle of juice, she drank it so enthusiastically that she spilled it all over herself. Purple drops streamed down her pink skin. Mariam only laughed and told her: 

— Come on, come on, before people think the apocalypse started here. 

— By the way, what about a sleepover tonight? — Sophie suggested. — Emi, you don’t have classes tomorrow, right? 

— Nope. Classes only continue in January now, though I do have to come back once next week for the retake. 

— I’m in, — Mariam said. — But where? 

— We could go to Elvin’s, — Sophie answered. 

— His place is tiny, but I’d love that. 

— For you that’s actually a plus in some ways. You’ll be closer to your Elvin. I’d offer my place, but they’re doing renovations today. 

— We’ll fit somehow. Emi, what about you? 

— A sleepover? — she repeated. — Yeah, sure. 

They left the building and headed toward the metro. 

— Fleya! And where exactly are you going? — Mariam asked. 

— I want to come with you. You don’t mind, do you? 

— Fine, but make sure to touch Elvin. Talk to him, don’t be shy, don’t sit silently in the corner like at the birthday party, otherwise you’ll make me uncomfortable. 

— Yay! — Fleya exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Mariam. — He won’t be scared of me? 

— He won’t. Sophie wasn’t scared either. What’s there to be afraid of? You may be ridiculous, but you’re kind. 

Elvin sat sewing at his machine. 

“Damn it, forgot to switch the stitch setting!” he cursed. “Oh come on!” 

Suddenly the doorbell rang. 

“Who could that be?” he wondered. “Mariam?” 

Elvin looked through the peephole and opened the door. 

— Surprise! — Mariam said, hugging him. 

Behind her came Emi and Sophie. As Elvin hugged them one by one, he suddenly felt something burn him intensely. 

— Ow! — he shouted. — That hurts! 

He looked up and saw a gigantic neon creature towering above him. 

— Wait… is that her? The one Emi talked about? 

— Hi! I’m Fleya, — the goddess answered. 

— Nice to meet you… I’m Elvin, Mariam’s boyfriend. Do you live with them or something? 

— Yes. With Mariam and Emi. 

— Mariam, why have you never told me? 

— I just didn’t know how to explain it… — Mariam replied. — Anyway, we have a new roommate now. Well, technically you already know each other. Don’t be afraid of her, she’s nice. 

They somehow squeezed themselves onto the couches in the tiny room. 

— Emi, how’d the presentation go? Mariam said today was important for you, — Elvin asked. 

“Oh no… I wish he hadn’t asked,” she thought. “This is so embarrassing.” 

Emi looked at him awkwardly and answered: 

— I failed. I just wasn’t prepared enough. 

Elvin wanted to say something comforting, but Fleya interrupted him: 

— That’s not true! I made half of it, that’s why they rejected it. 

— You didn’t have to say that, — Emi snapped. 

Evening came. Mariam flirted with Elvin, Sophie chatted about something with Emi, and Fleya lay nearby with her legs stretched out. Nothing interesting. 

— This is kind of boring, — Mariam admitted. — Sometimes I feel like we get along so well, but do we actually know each other at all? Sophie, for example, do you know what color underwear I like wearing? Elvin, do you know what cute nickname I had as a child? We’re supposedly friends, but we don’t know these tiny details about each other. 

— Huh? Underwear? — Sophie laughed. — Looks like you’ve suddenly gotten obsessed with psychology! What about this game then? It’s called “White, Black, Golden Chair.” One person is chosen, and during the “white” phase everyone says something good about them. Then comes “black,” where everyone says something bad — completely honestly. And during “gold,” you discuss everything that was said. 

— Mm, sounds like a fun game… after which we’ll all be sleeping in separate houses, — Mariam smiled. — Let’s do it! 

— Oh, if you react like that to “sleeping in separate houses,” then you’ve definitely got some things bottled up inside. All the more reason to play. 

— Just don’t start a fight with me right here! Otherwise I won’t be able to stop myself from saying way too many good things about you! 

— What if you all accuse me of something and I get upset? — Fleya worried. 

— Relax, — Emi answered. — What could you possibly have done for us to accuse you? Besides, we’ll also say positive things. 

— Fine then. But please don’t hurt my feelings too much! 

— Everyone’s playing, right? — Sophie asked. 

Elvin lifted his head from the pillow and finally started paying attention. 

— But I barely know Fleya. I can’t name a single flaw of hers… but not any virtues either. 

— I can, even though I’ve known her for the same amount of time as you, Elvin! — Sophie replied. — For example, she absolutely can’t handle hearing anything negative about herself. Okay, I’m joking. If you honestly don’t know what to say, just skip the round or say whatever you think. 

They all tried to sit in a circle so that everyone could look everyone else in the eyes. 

— Let’s start with me, — Mariam suggested. — I’m probably the least afraid. You can start straight with the dirt. 

— Alright, — Sophie replied. — But let’s do white first, fair and square. I know you’re very kind, loud, and energetic, and that’s a plus for me. You have an incredible talent inside you and somehow you keep refusing to acknowledge it. I remember how every time I listened to you play guitar, I was holding my breath. And your talent is far from only that… I’m sometimes amazed just by the way you live: how you talk, how you walk, how you joke, how you arrange things in the shop. I think that’s called charisma. You’re the most charismatic person I know, definitely. And you’re also the most beautiful in this room—not by any standard of beauty, but personally, to my taste. I can’t resist your huge black eyes, your rosy cheeks, and your small round lips with that lovely smile. Even the way you smell and how your thick hair gets tangled—it all drives me crazy. Elvin is insanely lucky! Okay, I got a bit too focused on appearance… In short, you’re wonderful! 

Mariam listened, smiling and her eyes sparkling, but she was still waiting: “When is the black coming…” 

— Your main flaw is definitely your lack of tact. Sometimes it feels like you don’t care about other people’s feelings at all. You’ll say something small, really, but it can be very unpleasant! I spend hours choosing an outfit, doing my makeup, asking “How do I look?” and you say: “Not really, you should change this, this…” Like, why?! Or when you suggest meeting up, going out, and then you don’t show up because you “forgot.” It’s insanely annoying! And another thing—you’re kind of completely unable to support people with words. Sometimes I’m talking and I want you to say something back, but instead you just, as usual, go and hug everyone, kiss everyone randomly. Of course it’s cute, but it’s so strange… 

— Alright then, — Mariam replied. — Thank you for your honesty, it was very nice. I’m really glad that I seem to actually have loving friends. Thank you for telling me my flaws. I don’t promise anything, but I’ll try my best to be more considerate. And Sophie, I’ll take it into account—I’ll always come to our agreed meetups now! Emi, your turn? 

Emi nodded, though she was very scared. 

Since the very first day we met, — Mariam began, — I understood what you really are. An incredibly sweet little girl with a huge heart. I could spend the whole night listing how kind, smart, caring, and attentive you are, but I think a single word can express more love than a thousand adjectives. And that word has three letters: Emi. You are your main and only value—entirely, not just in parts. I just want your huge heart to turn inward at least once. Toward yourself. 

— Thank you, Mariam. — Emi melted. — Such valuable words… 

— The only thing I can say about you on the black chair is that you overthink everything way too often. I leave somewhere—you already think I’ve abandoned you and sit there with a sad face. I say something in the wrong tone—you think I hate you. Get rid of that, it’s holding you back. Be simpler. 

Then it was Sophie’s turn, and Emi was already ready to “shower her with white-chair praise.” But why do I keep thinking about that phrase she said to Mariam? Emi thought. “You’re the most beautiful in this room…” And somewhere deep inside, I had hoped she would say that about me too. 

— Honestly, — Emi said, — I don’t even know how to list all your good qualities. I keep thinking about what happened between us the day before yesterday, I remember how we accidentally bumped into each other at Marjanishvili, and our first meeting, when Mariam told you that I exist for love and affection, and you looked into my eyes and smiled. It feels so easy and nice with you… You’re just so attractive in a way I can’t explain. Maybe it’s your kindness and charm? Sorry, this might not be the right place, but… I like you. Maybe we should try? 

Eight pairs of eyes immediately turned to her. Sophie smiled, looked at Emi, then lowered her gaze to the floor and replied: 

— Let’s do it. Actually, I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently too. The game, of course, got out of control, but… this is the best possible ending for it! 

Sophie moved to the sofa next to Emi, hugged her, and said gently: 

— And now we’re a couple… I’m so happy! 

— Congratulations! Congratulations! — Mariam shouted, rushing to hug them both. — Sophie and Emi are a couple! Yay, exactly as I wanted! 

— Be happy, — Fleya said, not knowing what people usually say in moments like this. — You’re good people! 

And Elvin, at the moment Sophie vacated his bed, stretched out again and almost fell asleep. Through half-closed eyes he noticed that everyone was suddenly happy and hugging. “What even happened?” he tried to understand. “Why am I always the last to know everything? Oh… Emi and Sophie, I guess. Yeah, I did notice something between them.” 

— Congratulations, — Elvin added. — You look great together.