Azael's blue eyes went wide as he felt the knife against his neck, and he blinked down at Elijah. "It's alright." he said, reaching a hand up to touch his neck. The dagger hadn't broken the skin, and there was no blood as he pulled his hand away. "No harm done. I just wanted to tell you that I am…back. I signaled home, and received my orders." I must destroy your memories of me.
Elijah was curious as to what the orders were, but he knew that it was most likely not his business. His arm dropped to his side and he smiled tiredly. "It's nice to have you back," he said turning around and walking back to his bed. He flopped back onto it, sighing deeply and contently. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes locked onto the circle lamp in the middle. The light image burning into his vision, causing a bright circle to appear everywhere he looked for a little bit. His smile quickly snapped downward as the phone on his nightstand began ringing again. He groaned loudly and pulled a pillow over his head.
(I gtg soon)
Azael frowned, eyes snapping to the phone as it began to ring. He stepped inside the room. "Who is calling you? And is there a way I can help you make them stop?" he asked, looking over at Elijah worriedly. He had heard the other male saying to "stop calling me", so he assumed this was the same person again. He had no idea what he could possibly do to help, but he wanted to help.
Elijah removed the pillow from his face and spoke. "It's just an old… acquaintance of mine. And I'm afraid murder is illegal here, so no, there's not much you can do." The phone kept blaring on as if the person on the other end kept calling back. Elijah groaned loudly again and stormed out of the room and past Azael. Stomping all the way from the cold, hardwood floors of the hallways, to the warm, carpet floor of the living room.
He plopped against the leather couch, his exposed light brown skin practically slapping against it. As he had predicted, the couch was cold and his skin stuck to it like wet paper. He shivered and mumbled to himself: "Maybe I should have gotten dressed." The ringing of the phone bothered him still, maybe even more now that the distance increased. He slapped his face into his hands and sighed.
Azael frowned. "Maybe so, but I can answer it for you." he said, following Elijah quietly. "I could…say whatever you want me to. I owe you for your help." he shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms loosely and leaning one shoulder against the wall. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, watching Elijah with soft, gentle blue eyes.
Elijah began stammering. "I-i don't even know what I'd want you to say." He flopped onto his side. "I'm best off just cutting the damned phone cord." His words were both irritated and relaxed, ending sounding like a nonchalant sigh. He cloud of euphoria had long since come crashing down, leaving him reminising over what had been, just as he always does. His harsh yet confused eyes met Azael's gentle ones. It flustered him slightly.
"B-but thanks for offering," he whispered.
Azael nodded, sitting down beside Elijah. "Alright." He replied softly. "But let me know if I can help." He linked his hands together in his lap, sighing softly. He didn't quite know what else to say or do. He shrugged his shoulders, and looked around the room. "By the way…do you want me to stay, or would you rather I leave?" He asked. "Because if I'm going to stay, I'll be here for about a week. Or I can leave right now. It's up to you."
He looked over at the angel as the couch shifted to accommodate his weight. "Oh, you can stay," he replied. He began thinking to himself as to where Azael could possibly stay. He thought of his childhood room, which, since he hadn't moved all of his life, was in that house. He groaned quietly, remembering all of the phases he went through. They were quite embarrassing, to say the least, but the best he could do was hope that Azael didn't go into the closet in there.
He pointed down the hall to a door. "You can stay in that room straight down the hall," he added on.
Azael nodded a little bit. "Alright. Thank you." He said, looking at Elijah. "I am in your debt for all your help." His voice was quiet, but sincere. "And really, let me know if there is anything I can do to help you with anything while I'm here." He ran a hand through his hair, the Halo glowing a little bit and casting that shimmering golden light across his cheekbones.
The amount that Azael ran a hand through his own golden strands was almost enough to drive Elijah insane… again. He just wanted to do it too, he was upset, he was pouty, he was… jealous?
Oh, nononononono, Elijah mentally slapped himself. What are you thinking? That's just weird.
That was it, his feeble attempt to snap himself out of it. It, as you could have guessed, didn't work very well, but it was enough to bring him out of a daze to respond to Azael's comment. It wasn't the most coherent response, but it was still a response nonetheless.
"Mmmhm, sure will," he mumbled. His eyes were still locked on Azael hair, practically not even blinking.
Azael noticed the look. "Is something wrong?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Is there anything in my hair?" He looked at Elijah curiously, putting his hands back down into his lap. He sighed quietly. His wings were gone again, since he didn't want them to get in the way.
"N-no," Elijah sputtered, he hadn't even realized that he was staring. "Your hair's great, I-i mean it's fine, I-i- there's nothing in your hair."
He placed his elbows on his thighs and lowered his face into his hands. If that wasn't embarrassing, he didn't know what was anymore. He partially wanted to cry. He didn't know what happened, all he knew was that he practically lost control of his brain, but he was still… in control? It confused him. Nothing like this had happened before… well, only once, but he didn't like to talk about that.
Azael frowned a little bit at Elijah's behavior. "Okay…are you alright?" he asked slowly. "You seem…upset." the angel tugged on his sleeves a little bit, watching Elijah and trying to figure out what was wrong. If Elijah needed help or needed anything at all that Azael could give him.
Elijah removed one hand from his flushed face to make a dismissive waving motion. "N-no, I mean yes, I'm fine." He slowly began to get frustrated. None of his words were coming out right anymore. He didn't know what was wrong but he just wanted to stop.
He looked up at Azael with a smile. He didn't want the angel to worry about him… again. "You want to see where you'll be staying?"
Azael nodded slowly. "Alright…if you're sure." He said slowly. At the question, he nodded again. "Oh. Yes please." He replied, standing and extending a hand out to help Elijah up. I don't want to make you forget me… He thought, and cleared his throat softly, trying to distract himself from that. From what he would eventually have to do to Elijah.
Elijah smiled and took Azael's hand. "Let's get right to it then," he said, striding down the poorly illuminated hallway. Elijah hadn't been into this room in months, the last time he went into it was when… well, that's not very important. What was important to the human was that Azael would be staying with him, even if only for a few days. He was certainly going to cherish the memories. Or at least, he hoped he would. He wasn't sure what would happen while the angel stayed with him, good or bad, but he really didn't care.
He stopped at the end of the hall and pushed open a tall, white door. It opened with an array of quiet and familiar cracks and creaks. The door leaned back to reveal a naturally-lit room, the light from it pouring out into the hallway in which Elijah had stood. The room was large and had pastell-yellow walls. There was a large bed in the corner of the room, covered by large, white comforters and soft white pillows. Looking back at the room, Elijah finally remembered what he spent all of his money on as a teen.
He turned back to Azael with a smile. "I hope you like the room, and I'm sorry if you don't, but this is where you'll stay while you're here." He began to walk back down the hall toward the living room, but paused and turned around. "Oh yeah, and don't go in the closet. At all." He whipped back around, his green hair hitting his light brown cheeks gently as he marched down the hallway. His footsteps fading in volume as he did so.
Azael smiled back, looking at Elijah, then around the room carefully. He raised an eyebrow. "Why, what's in the closet?" he asked, sticking his head out of the doorway to watch Elijah walk down the hallway. He swallowed, frowning a little bit and wondering what was in the closet that could be so terrible that Elijah didn't even want him opening it. He wouldn't, of course, but he was still curious.
Elijah flopped himself down against the couch for what felt to be the 50th time that day. He looked around the dimly lit room, a warm, golden colour had washed over everything. He couldn't help but get a strange sinking feeling as he sat in the room. Like something was going to go terribly wrong and he couldn't stop it. It wasn't a feeling that he was fond of. He felt a spinning sensation and his breathing became labored. He felt as though he was going to pass out and it wasn't quite a pleasant feeling. But despite all of this panic, he could only think of one thing.
I don't want Azael to see me like this.
He pushed himself up from the couch and staggered into the guest bathroom, slamming the door behind him loudly as he fell against it. He did his breath to slow his breathing and convince himself that everything was going to be okay, but he just couldn't. It was like an error 500, and he didn't know what went wrong. Hot tears streamed down his face, a mixture of panic and shame passing over in his mind.
Azael frowned at the lack of answer, and looked around for Elijah. He heard the door slam, and realized what room it was. Perhaps he just needs to pee? He wondered. He examined the bed, and realized that as long as he was careful and lay on his stomach, he could have his wings out and loose and comfortable. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.
Elijah knew that he needed to get out of the bathroom in a timely manner so that it didn't become concerning. But no matter how hard he tried, he always managed to knock something over as he got up off of the floor and fall right back down. Each thud was loud and made Elijah cringe as they collided with the tile floor. At that point, he was sure which was more concerning, him taking eons on the bathroom or the number of thuds he was making just trying to get out. Either way, he couldn't even bring himself to care. He just wanted to get out of the bathroom, and that he did… after a good ten minutes.
He flopped face first, for the nth time that day, on the couch and relaxed his muscles. Today was unnecessarily stressful and he couldn't help but silently will it to end.
Azael frowned a little at the thuds, and eventually joined Elijah on the couch again. He was worried, and his face showed it. "Elijah? Are you alright?" He asked slowly. "If you are nervous because of me, I can leave, I will not be offended. If it is something else…I realize that it is not my business, and that I do not know you that well, but I would like to help, if I can." He studied Elijah with a worried frown.
Elijah made his best attempt to speak, but nothing came out except for a mess of incoherent mumbles. He reached forward slightly and grabbed Azael's wrist to give a weak signal that he wanted the angel to stay. He knew but at the same time didn't know what was wrong. He didn't know why he felt so… worried, yet he did. Despite this, he knew that he wasn't going to let the big black cloud above his head bring him down.
He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, the other one still gripped tight on the angel's wrist. A light yawn escaped his mouth as he stretched a little. His eyes were still a little puffy and red from his crying session in the bathroom and his voice was a bit raspy and obviously strained, but Elijah didn't care. This was the first time that he really was going to get to have an actual conversation with the angel. You know, aside from the "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine" thing.
"Yeah, I'm just fine," he smiled, this time, unlike the rest when he was extremely sarcastic with his reply, he meant it. "Do you mind if I ask you a bunch of pointless questions that my dumb brain came up with?"
Azael remained still as Elijah held onto his wrist, studying Elijah. "You don't seem fine." he replied. "But I won't pressure you." his eyebrows drew together. "You may ask. Answers are not a guarantee." he shook his head a little bit, his mouth twitching into a faint smile. He ran his free hand through his hair, leaving the golden strands sticking up and messy in his hand's wake.
"Okay… well… uh, what's it like in… umm, wherever you came from?" he inquired. He was quite hesitant to assume that there was a Heaven. In fact, up until he met Azael, he was almost dead certain that there was no "God". He raised one curious eyebrow at Azael as he waited for an answer.
His green eyes darted around the room slowly, taking everything in. He relaxed just a tiny bit at the scene. It was creeping into afternoon time faster than Elijah had realized, but he didn't really care. He felt happy.
"Ah." Azael hesitated for a moment. "Heaven. It's…" He sighed. "I don't know how to describe it in a way that would make sense to you." He said slowly. "I don't mean that in an offensive way, just that…it would be difficult to describe to someone who has never seen it." He swallowed, looking over at Elijah. "For us angels, for instance, it's different than for humans. And different even more for Demons."