Eli seemed to have completely ignored the angel's first comment, and only replied to the second. "Um, yeah," he replied, "let's go."
He walked over to his car and unlocked the doors. His breathing steadied once again and his face lifted into a small, less psychotic, smile. He opened his door and crawled into the car. The leather covering brushed cold against the soft hands of the man as he lowered himself in. He adjusted himself, the top of his head reaching just to the halfway point of the head cushion. He extended his clammy hands forward to run them over the smooth, black steering wheel.
Memories of the car flooded through his mind. Both the hot and passionate ones as well as the cold and broken ones. He sat there for a little, rapped within a quilt of nostalgia and sorrow, longing for what had been, but wishing it had never happened. He could have sat there forever, sinking into the leather until his blood ran cold, but alas, he had bigger matters at hand, bigger than the cage he had made for his mind.
A lopsided smile pulled onto his face. Though it was rather uncomfortable, he kept it on. He pulled the stickshift and drove off into a practically empty road. Silence consumed the vehicle.
Azael sat down and buckled, but didn't speak as Elijah drove. He didn't know what to say. "If you wish me to leave, I will." he said softly. "I did not mean to…cause this." To cause death. He needed to get home, report back about the demons' plans. If he didn't…he shivered at the thought of what would happen. His information could save the war. And he was the sole bearer of it. He closed his eyes. Lillen, Cael… The two Angels who had been on the mission with him. They were dead now. Killed.
The human's eyes stayed focused on the road, but narrowed ever so slightly. "I don't want you to leave, but if you are ready to, you're welcome to." His tone obviously took a huge turn. The smile that he had on washed away so quickly that one couldn't even say it faded. His autumn gold hands tightened around the steering wheel. These words. They were spoken before. In that car. A situation so cold, so haunting. He wanted to scream, run, break down in tears, but he couldn't. Instead, he just sat there, his emotions showing in naught but in his eyes, even then, those were practically unreadable. He breathed in and out, each breath steady, aside from a singular shaky one that escaped.
Azael frowned a little bit. "I…are you alright?" he asked slowly, studying Elijah. "You…don't seem alright." he wasn't the greatest at providing comfort. And God, he was torn now. He would stay for this human male, though he didn't know why. But he also knew that he needed to go home. Needed to deliver the news of the Demons' latest plans. He didn't know what to do.
"Yes, Azael. I'm perfectly fine," the human said, his voice was harsh and more than obviously upset. His mind was a mess of things. Something scratched at his throat, a familiar feeling that he did not know. Each word dug into his throat pulling it shut quickly. He couldn't breathe anymore. His blurred as hot tears streamed down his face. He swerved the car to a sharp stop along the side of the road and held his face in his hands, his breathing, though muffled, was still loud and pained. Faint words rasped out from the smaller male's throat, words that could be understood as "I'm sorry."
Azael bit his lip when he saw the tears. He reached over, gently rubbing Elijah's upper back with one hand. "Don't be sorry." he said quietly. "You don't need to be." his blue eyes watched Elijah quietly, calmly, and he wanted to reach out and hug the human male close.
Elijah sat like that for a while. Shivering with hot tears running down his face. His sob was louder than it ever had been for reasons unknown. He couldn't the urge he felt to hug the angel. He just wanted to be held again. He wanted everything to just be alright.
He unbuckled his seatbelt quickly and practically leaped into the Azael's lap without a second thought. He knew he'd regret this a little later, but at that moment, he did not care. He curled up into a ball and sat there hugging the angel's waist, but for some reason, he no longer cried. He just sat there in comfortable silence.
Azael blinked, surprised, then gently wrapped his arms around Elijah, holding him gently. He rubbed Elijah's back, biting his lip slightly. He didn't ask what was wrong; it was none of his business, even if he wanted to be able to comfort Elijah. He began to hum softly, the soft tune of a lullaby that he had learned when he was a child. He kept humming, hands lightly rubbing across Elijah's back as he held the other male in his lap.
Elijah leaned against the taller male's chest, feeling the vibration. His breathing slowed down significantly. The sensation of a gentle hand rubbing across his back made him feel safe. He felt happy, peaceful, he felt like… it wasn't going to last. He just knew it. Something would go wrong, terribly wrong. His eyebrows furrowed slightly again, but he did his best to shake it off.
I can't go dumping my wreck of emotions onto him, he thought to himself, he doesn't deserve it.
Instead, he just buried himself a little further in the shirt of the angel. He smelled of blood and sweat, but he didn't quite find himself minding. Instead, he just mumbled soft words into the fabric. "Thank you" being the loudest.
Azael continued just rubbing Elijah's back and humming. "You're welcome." he replied softly, then began to hum again. He was glad that at least he could provide this comfort, however small it was. His halo had reappeared, glowing in his hair and casting a soft, golden light around the Angel's face. Demons didn't have a halo; they had horns, the remains of a shattered and broken halo, that changed and twisted to become those horns. He sighed softly.
Elijah pushed himself back from the taller boy's chest, running one hand through his own messy, green hair. He crawled off Azael's lap and back into his seat of the car. His face flushed suddenly as he had realized how impulsive that was of him, but he didn't apologize. He knew that the angel would tell him not. So instead, he hit the stickshift and set back onto the road home. As he looked around a little, he noticed that the sky was no longer that eerie starless black of the night, instead, it was gaining a rosy peace colour. The heat of the rising sun reflected on the neglected water drop in the world, making them into a beautiful rainbow.
For a split-second, Elijah felt at peace once more, but panic quickly rose into his eyes. He never finished study for his test, and that test was today. He released a loud grumble. He got no sleep in and barely any studying in. He. Was. Doomed.
Azael watched Elijah carefully as the male drove. He saw the panic, and frowned a little bit. "Are you alright?" He asked slowly. He wasn't going to ask about why Elijah had climbed into Azael's lap; he knew it wasn't his business and he wasn't going to pry about anything. But he wanted to help, if he could. He owed Elijah quite a lot, and he wanted to repay that debt somehow.
Elijah sighed heavily, "Yeah, I'm fine," he assured the angel. He then proceeded to mumble, "but my marks won't be." He had no clue what to do. He didn't study, so he was going to have to go off of his memory. He took one hand off the steering wheel and slightly pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit of his. They soon came to a stoplight and Elijah stretched lightly. He looked the angel up and down, his gaze soon stopping at Elijah's eyes. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in curiosity. His lips parted slightly as if to say something, but nothing but hushed breathing escaped. He shook his head, dismissing the thought that he had and resumed driving.
Azael noticed the look, but didn't say anything about it. The halo around his head was still glowing, casting golden light across his face and shoulders and blonde hair. The light made it difficult for Azael to see, too. That was what halos did. They were designed to keep the angel trusting in God's glory, trusting that they would not be misled. A demon's "horns" were really the remnants of a broken halo.
(Ack! Sorry! I'll reply ASAP)
They soon arrived back at Elijah's home. To his own surprise, Elijah had locked the door, usually, he would forget something like this. He gave himself a mental pat on the back as he unlocked the door.
The house was, of course, a mess, just as he had left it, but he didn't have time to worry about that. It was 4 AM and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep yet, but he couldn't even afford to. The risk of oversleeping was too great. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, preparing himself for the morning. He looked at Azael carefully, questions dancing on his slightly raised eyebrows.
Azael returned the look, blinking. "What?" He asked, standing to the side and trying not to be in Elijah's way. He had his hands in his pockets, and, except for the golden halo, seemed almost perfectly human. He raised his eyebrows at Elijah curiously. He didn't understand what the human was giving him that look for.
He raised one weak and shaky finger as if beginning to ask a question. His skin was deathly pale. He gaped his mouth open slightly to say something, but once again, nothing came out. His eyelids drooped and his knees visibly weakened. He fell forward, hitting the ground with a loud thud. A light snore could be heard coming from the human male.
Azael frowned as Elijah fell, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He picked up Elijah gently, and set the human male down on the couch. He wasn't quite sure what had happened. He sat down in a chair, watching Elijah and waiting to see what would happen.
Elijah snored quietly, tossing and turning in his sleep. He mumbled softly and his eyebrows pulled together a little. Few words could be made out, and the ones that could be didn't make any sense. What was one supposed to do with the word 'salmon'? He shook slightly, it was a bit obvious that something was bothering the sleeping figure. Although, it was hard to tell if it was a nightmare or something miscellaneous. And though it was slightly difficult to tell due to his brown skin, there was a pink tint to his cheeks. He groaned slightly audibly as he turned and a cold sweat dripped down his forehead. One could say that he looked quite miserable, others would say that he needed to get over himself.
Each mumble got more confusing, and the turns he made more frequent. Finally, he stopped and his eyelids lifted open, his piercing green eyes almost immediately finding Azael. He stared for a while, but didn't utter a word, for he had nothing to say.
Azael looked straight at Elijah. When the human male awoke, he shifted. His wings had flickered back into being, curved gently around his shoulders. When he bent and stood, they rustled, flicking back and out of the way, shedding a few stray, glittering feathers onto Elijah's floor. He stepped over. "Are you alright?" he finally asked in a soft, gentle, oh-so-careful voice.
Elijah tried his best to speak, but nothing but a tired mumble escaped. His head was spinning and he felt weak, but he willed himself to get up. He didn't wish to imagine missing an exam for any of his classes that he took so seriously. He eventually managed to bring his feverish mumbles up to an audible whisper.
"I'm alright," he replied, "just a little dizzy." He began gathering his things slowly and sweeping his hairs from his forehead.
Azael frowned. "You are not alright, Elijah." he replied softly. He reached out and out his hands on Elijah's shoulders to steady him, his wings brushing lightly against the floor, white and ghostly and glittering and beautiful. "Sit down." he ordered, though his voice was still gentle. "If it is merely a physical hurt, I might be able to help, but only if you tell me what's wrong."
