The river is turbulent and angry at the world. It boils and boils keeping distance and letting the rage pass. The river is angry at the world. It allows no one to approach and admire its greatness, its power and beauty, because even if the river is angry at the world it never loses its mystery.

So is he. Even if his eyes are cold and repulsive to the others, he never loses his charm. But even so, he keeps people away. It’s hard for him to accommodate again.

But it’s what defines him, everything starting from zero and building new kingdoms over and over again.

The wind flows hard in November but he doesn’t shiver.

 

 

 

 

They meet on different sides of the same river. They saw each other and they caught themselves staring for a little longer, one with a blue bellflower between his fingers, freshly ripped from blood stained and wittered grass. They stare a little longer than what normal people would stare even when caught red handed.

But they are not ordinary. They are out of order. He knows this. He knows it’s him and suddenly, when the other one from across the river bolts into a run, he feels wrinkled petals crushing into the softness of his palms.

 

 

 

 

They don’t see each other for a while, long enough for him to reminiscence.

 

 

 

 

When December comes but the snow delays its appearance he’s still not wearing any coat. Why would he bother when there is softness in the wind and when the humidity loves him enough to keep him warmth? It’s not like he can feel the coldness anyway.

He’s playing with dead leafs from the previous season when his eye tail catches the sight of a movement. A fast enough one to pass unnoticed but slow enough for his senses. He’s not old yet, and his reflexes remained almost the same.

On the other side of the river there’s a silhouette. Slim body, same height but light hair and different posture; he’s not crouched down, twirling leaves between his fingers but he stands up tall, proud even, with a rose held loosely. His lips curl at the corners but as if the other one sensed it, the rose drops to the ground, petals disintegrating from its structure, falling apart like broken glass.

They share the contact they both remember months ago but this time it’s only for a brief second before the other jolts running once again, leaving behind only faint trails of white little puffs, traces of the first snow.

He still doesn’t shiver even while looking up at the sky, ice crystals falling down.

 

 

 

 

Before the crystals touch the humid turning ground, there is a black rose running down the river, petals frozen and thorns wet.

 

 

 

 

There is pride inside his chest when they meet on the street, by accident he wants to believe. It’s not an accident, he knows, because accidents don’t happen when you chase one after the other, not in this world at least. Accidents don’t happen when you wait and he’s ogling in the shadows.

But they bump into each other when he ends his Christmas shopping. Perhaps he’s been a second faster or perhaps the other had been a second slower, losing focus while getting distracted by time’s chaos, bright lights lighting the city and carols ringing everywhere.

It’s easy to lose focus and get distracted when you’re young and new.

And he wastes no time in showing his pride through his smile, defying him in a dare he knows he’ll win. The other remains stoic, almost scared by the fastened breaths that escape his chest. Their eyes lock once again and this time they are face to face, no river between them.

And he lets his hand wander and linger for a bit on the other’s waist as he passes on, no word spoken, no feeling shared.

 

 

 

 

There is regret in this human nature when you don’t do something you desired for so long or when you wish you’d had done something but didn’t finish it.

 

 

 

 

Until the end of the year the meetings increase to the extent where they see each other twice a week. It’s unusual when you start to think that they’re opposite from all points and that they should hate each other. Not that they actually can but it’s in their nature to be against themselves, to be complete opposites.

Yet here they are, sharing the same kind of warm winter coats, the same hair colour, the same deep and longing gaze playing in their eyes. They are not opposites and the first thing that runs through his mind is how can this happen when someone can get so disappointed even for small things like these.

First words after such a long time are the hardest yet he can’t hide his curl of lips as the forms the sounds.

“You’re not allowed...”

“Don’t get too excited – “ and he bolts running again without even finishing, eyes flashing colours that he missed looking at and colours that he used to cherish. Heterochromia is such a beautiful treasure...

 

 

 

 

How can he not get excited when the favourite is rebelling and preparing his own fall?

 

 

 

 

The house he’s ruling is consumed by shadows. The place he’s reigning over is made of darkness, smoke and nothingness. It’s the complete opposite of his original house, the place he used to call home until casted away because of different beliefs and conceptions. And yet he got used to call this new house his own, where his way of thinking about life had no boundaries and it’s not criticized.

There is no one here to push him away and out of the place he calls safety. He feels safe in the shadows, protected, no pain to endure and feelings hidden.

Up there, the place opposite to his, he felt vulnerable.

 

 

 

 

“What exactly are you doing here?” his voice is smooth and calming, as if talking with a human’s baby, singing to him to put him to sleep.

Wide eyes follow his movements with extreme precision, lips tucked together in a thin line. There is no reply and he expects the silence, he’d gotten used to it.

“You shouldn’t talk to me, I know. You shouldn’t even have made yourself noticed. I’m surprised you let yourself be seen,” he approaches more and more with each word he’s speaking. He stops right in front of the other, amused by the still faint difference in their height and by the way those piercing eyes bore holes into his skin.

“Are you rebelling, Michael? Getting distracted maybe?” and there is no time for the corners of his lips to rise because the flash of his eyes happen and then there is the forever bolt of running away, legs sprinting and eyes closing as the loop is made against wall concrete.

But he is faster for the second time since meeting again, and there he is, fingers through white collar of thin shirt, jacket loosely hanging off shoulders. He laughs when a back made of flesh hits the concrete, dark hair covering the tightened eyes.

“You are falling into temptation and you might regret it later,”

“Don’t you dare to –”

“Here you have no –”

And he’s staring at empty space, only three white feathers floating where the boy used to be.

 

 

 

 

When they reach the ground they are already black.

 

 

 

 

When you are being thrown out of Heaven you learn you cannot believe in hope ever again. You get locked out of it and you cannot reach it ever again; you get to learn handling everything on your own, taking power into your own hands, creating and building your fortress as you wish and as you can. You get to distance yourself from everything, to bury feelings somewhere so deep that no hazard can ever unbury them.

He’s been locked out of Heaven. He’d been fought by his own kind, his own community. He’d been denied the right to carry feelings inside his chest just because it wasn’t supposed to be in their nature to do such things. He’d been denied to love and get hurt, to get involved and get consumed, he’d been denied to ever see his kind again.

When you have the power to further develop the free will given into something more powerful than even imagined and when you get to feel the sin of jealousy, you get cast down.

He’d been sent to Hell, a place so far away from his home. He’d been named from Lucifer to Satan, the Adversary, he’d been made the first fallen angel, the first one to lose his three pairs of white wings and never be able to fly up in the sky and knock on massive doors and be welcomed home.

He’s the first angel capable to feel in Heaven, the first one to get consumed and the first one to be cursed for it; the first one to love and be hurt and the first one to be expelled because of it.

But just as he’s the first one to feel emotions, he’s also the first one to be able to depart from another entity, a dark one, consumed by rage and anger and hatred toward everything and everyone.

He’s the first and only to part his soul in two and create the Devil and remain himself, the Lucifer.

Because he could never materialize in human world if all the hatred consumed him from the inside out. So he became two entities; a ruler of darkness, king in his reign, and a fallen angel, half human and longing again for feelings.

 

 

 

 

But the fallen angel feels alone on earth with no one beside him. So he craves...

 

 

 

 

The winter passes without meetings and for once Lucifer feels apologizing for angering the only one who would take the homesickness away. And he thinks he shouldn’t have angered Michael, risking never seeing him once again, remaining all alone for the second time. The two months pass hardly, too slow and too monotone.

But once spring hits and the river starts allowing plants to grow again on its sides, his eyes flicker with light for the first time in a long time. Because he is there, on the other side of the river, light colour hair again, thin layer of clothes covering slim arms.

Lucifer is happy, pride once again rising inside his chest, smile blooming on his lips.

Michael shows no reaction but the long stare is enough for him to understand.

 

 

 

 

One more mistake and everything can crumble.

 

 

 

 

Lucifer hates mistakes. He’s done a lot in Heaven. He started hating them the moment the battle began. Mistakes brought him to hell and earth where he made his own hell again and again. Mistakes ripped out his wings and turned them black; mistakes of showing emotions and mistakes of telling, mistakes of confessing and mistakes of longing after a soul that he should have known that was too pure and naive to ever understand.

Mistakes that he’d done in a community built not to feel but to protect others, a community built not to care for itself but make and show others the right path.

 

 

 

 

Lucifer won’t do mistakes ever again. 

 

 

 

 

He educated himself to be desired and not be the one desiring. Once, he had desired and had also been punished for it, so it’s easier to make other do mistakes and suffer than letting yourself be hurt again.

He educated his charms with calm and clarity, he taught himself to be pleasant and loved by everyone and never be forgotten, because it’s easier to let other be haunted by memories than being hurt again.

“Have you been told off?”

They are not close. They keep distance, never again coming closer than arm length. Michael is three steps walking ahead him, his steps following slowly the same ones the other makes.

The reply never comes. He’s used to it; but now, having a human side, he’s curious and he can’t help asking it anyway, even if it meant talking alone.

“Aren’t you bored when you come here? Cause I get bored often...”

 

 

 

 

Because now the Earth is simply a little too silent.

 

 

 

 

“How did you escape Satan’s wrath when it destroyed the Earth?”

The question nearly sends him of the edge of the river when he gets surprised and almost forgets to lean back from reaching a forgotten snowbell. Not even the angry river is that cruel to such delicate being.

He looks up, observing the stoic face of the archangel, eyes glued to the fragile flower and nothing else.

“Aren’t I Satan?”

“Lucifer, how did you – “

“You’re forgetting I created it – “

“Answer me!” there is the stoic voice he heard only once in his existence and the memory isn’t pleasant.

“I’m the one holding the remaining power, not it. It can only rule in Hell and nothing else, just tempting too weak souls who can’t fight against hatred words... that’s how,” and he feels irritation rising inside his chest as his voice grows higher and louder.

He shouldn’t feel this way, not when he had learnt to control everything about himself.

“After all, this is how I became Kai, isn’t it?”

 

 

 

 

Maybe Michael took pity on him. The observation of the played game never goes unnoticed. There are questions. And he answers. Maybe he starts feeling bored as well, down here on earth.

 

 

 

 

“Then how did it destroy the Earth?”

“Fire was never my power...” it’s ended with a curl of lips that he can’t get rid of around such curious being.

 

 

 

 

Spring comes together with bloodroot flowers covering the sides of the river and Kai can’t get closer to the edge even if his heart is crying. He can’t fly over the flowers like Michael can just to stand on the edge of the river, opposite facing each other, one smiling and the other glancing calmly, eyes searching for hidden truths.

Lucifer is smiling because he noticed the change in the other’s presence. A slight change but he knows that slowly, slowly it will only become more and more visible to everyone and everything.

“Aren’t you behaving differently? Coming here so often now, asking questions, needing answers, interacting, breathing human life...” and he trails off, lost in the sight of the river, suddenly flowing calm and tender, water almost still. His eyes tremble and lips spasm, voice stuck in middle throat.

“Humans might see you and quest – “

“All they see is a flash of light. It happens a lot in spring, from what I noticed...” and once again, as well as each time words are being addressed to him, his chest swells with pride.

 

 

 

 

But isn’t Michael observing a lot of human behaviour lately?

 

 

 

 

Some meetings, Michael talks. He talks other than asking questions and demanding answers. He talks about the nature, the season, the buildings and the force and intelligence of human race. Lucifer doesn’t really listen, though he likes hearing his voice. He absorbs the sounds but never the meaning.

And then they fall in eternal silence until Michael disappears and makes himself unseen. And Lucifer, now used again with his voice, misses the ringing of those sounds and crave and longing bloom again inside his chest.

It’s a never ending circle.

Some meetings, they never talk. Yet they face each other what seems like hours or walk one ahead the other, leading through crowded places, shadowing lighted streets and listening the chaos around them.

Lucifer knows. Michael wonders if this is somehow like the chaos first created.

Kai is angry those times. The irritation and desperation rise and flow through his veins, scolding and blaming the never spoken questions.

 

 

 

 

Lucifer boils again because he knows the hidden thoughts. He feels the still rejected desires, the fought needs. He boils because the moment is near and irremediable. But smiles when a whisper fills his ears.

Luhan

 

 

 

 

“Isn’t Lilac such a nice flower?”

“Aren’t you Michael?”

Sun rays are tender these days. Coldness slowly disappeared making way to warmth and nice weather. Coats and jackets disappeared somewhere only the snow knows and wind doesn’t blow either.

It’s middle spring these days, fast running to the end of it. Time passes like lightening and never waits the thunder that the world is.

Lucifer’s hands are painted with mud as he passed his hand through the river’s boisterous waters. The liquid is always dirty when the river is angry and the dirt never settles down at the bottom of the pit.

He stares at the muddy hand and doesn’t react to the other’s gaze; yet he knows the look is impregnated with questions and uncertainty, such unfamiliar things for a seraphim. When he stands up, it happens so sudden that there is a light feeling of floating but he pushes it away.

“Go back, Michael!” his voice is stern and commanding like never before. And when he looks at the blond again he sees a frown covering his face.

Angels don’t frown.

“Why?”

“Why are you here? You had questions but now you don’t have anymore... why are you still staying, Michael?”

“What does –”

“Just go back to your home, Michael! You’re no longer needed here, your mission is over long time ago!” he grows angry, voice rasping. The authority he once had over him, over them and over everything feels like coming back to life through his system and it irritates him because there is no authority left.

“Why do you command me?” his words are bolder as well, voice growing huskier.

“Because you don’t listen! You’re breaking rules and you’ll get punished – “

“Since when do you care?”

“Since always because you don’t know the feeling of being cast down!” and for the first time it’s him who leaves first, before having the bad inspiration of showing a storm of his feelings again.

 

 

 

 

It angers Lucifer how vulnerable he became again, feelings coming back from the pit he’s thrown them. It angers him how he came to care once again for the same untouchable soul.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s the end of June when they meet again. It’s raining but neither of them has an umbrella, both of them being avoided by humans with black covers over their heads. Lucifer’s lips curl because he finds it ironic that they’re being avoided when, truthfully, they should have been acclaimed in glory.

Maybe not him, but Michael surely should have been, his greatness as archangel long overflowing in hierarchy.

And maybe he’s sinning again thinking it but this is how it should be if humans would know who they have among them. Maybe this is the exact reason why he’s been disowned from Heaven. 

So his chest swells with pride once again as he makes his way to the other, eyes never breaking contact. Michael still has his gaze tender, with round, mild eyes boring holes in what he shows interest.

“Sometimes I wonder if you come with a mission or not... isn’t it tiring flying all the way down here?”

The question goes unanswered but he knows better. There is no answer to such question, not when there is nothing tiring in flying somewhere where you feel you belong to.

 

 

 

 

There is a burning feeling on his shoulder blade when he walks and it’s not the feeling of rain hitting his skin. There is a burning feeling where his wings used to be and he can’t feel anything unless he’s being touched of one of his own.

 

 

 

 

Kai cries as he isolates himself away from the merciless soul that keeps haunting him for months. Kai cries because there had been countless times when he cut and ripped flesh with thorns and glass and there was no feeling through his body but sorrow and anger. He cries because even though he sinned and went against the one he’d been created by, he prayed to have mercy on him and give him physical feelings.

He prayed for pain but it never came.

Lucifer cries because it’s been so long since he last felt it. Lucifer cries because it’s been so long since he had contact with anything that belonged to his lost home.

He cries because he got to feel that warm vulnerability again.

 

 

 

 

A feeling he craves so much deep into his soul.

 

 

 

 

“You must go and never come see me, Michael!” he orders without looking at the body glued to the windowsill. His back rests against the doorframe, wood dug into flesh but no feeling at all. His head hangs low, eyes searching inexistent colours on the ground.

“Why?”

“Because you must drop this useless guilt that no one needs and continue living as a bright archangel. Stop this nonsense that’s confusing everyone and do what you’ve been created to do – “

“How do you know how I’ve been living to lecture me?” the voice is smooth and faint and Kai tightens his fist too fast and too hard.

“You’re growing mad, Michael, you’re rebelling for a lost and useless cause! All you feel is pity and guilt and nothing more and this is not – “

“How dare you lecture me, you fallen one? Do you suddenly care for us still in Heaven?” it’s mockery but Lucifer swallows it and feeds himself on it, gaining power and blooming the pride again. 

“No, I don’t! I stopped when you threw me as you ripped off my wings but that doesn’t mean I want to see you writhing in agony as you prepare your own fall!”

“You have learnt to lie so well – “

“I haven’t. I’m actually very sincere every time I speak. You’ll fall, Michael! Your fascination with this world full of humans and sins, with everything that is infected by sin will only drag you down sooner than you have planned. You have, haven’t you?”

And the silence covers them both and indescribable symbols dance on the fogged glass where the angel used to stand. Kai might not understand them anymore but they don’t predict anything good.

 

 

 

 

Lucifer is not sure if he wants to witness this kind of fall.

 

 

 

 

The river is uncontrollable and it is midsummer, that time of the year when it should have been the calmest, when its water should have been the clearest.

Kai glances at the other shore and inhales deep breathes when the light displays a childish game of rays. Nothing appears on the other side of the river and he doesn’t know if he’s sad the other isn’t standing there or if he’s angered by the knowledge that he’s getting his scolding up there where he cannot go.

It’s been a stupid game, he had always known it. He had played it excitedly but now it doesn’t seem that fun anymore. Not when the one that should have fallen already didn’t but continues to come down and fall in love with mankind.

There is no fun anymore when everything he fought to build comes to crumble in seconds.

But there is a flash of light and the first instinct he has is to raise his arms and protect himself and disappear in thin air but the appearance freezes him and his breath holds.

It’s not Michael.

“Hello, Kai!” the soft voice shakes him to the bones and makes the hairs on his nape stand. It’s been so long and he’s unchanged, it’s the first thing he notices.

The man is shorter by a lot than him, his face round and cheeks full and skin white as feathers. The eyes are rounder than he remembers, though they end sharply with tailed lashes and those lips seem forever smiling even when he’s serious.

“If you’re here, then something happened to Michael, didn’t it?” he hates how his skin shivers at his own words, surprising himself as well.

“He’s... something... what did he do, Kai?” the voice breaks at some point, confident eyes turning pleading and confused. “When had all this happened?”

“Should I be the one knowing what happens in Heaven?” he means no harm in his words and the other seems to understand, breaking eye contact for a glance at the river. “He’s being scolded...”

“Something in him broke, Kai... And the fall – “

“I warned him, Gabriel! Several times... I’m not desperate to drag innocence out of Heaven, even though I’m evil –“

 “You ripped yourself from the Devil, we’ve seen this, no one is blaming you –“

“I never thought you will because the truth is seen the same by all of us, just because I see the ugly part of it doesn’t mean I see it differently,”

“Kai – “ there is a challenge of trying to approach but he is faster and steps back. “Why are you angry?!”

“How can I not be? He didn’t listen... not even me...Does he ever listen -”

“Raphael is trying hard but ends up with headaches most of the times...”

Lucifer snorts because he knows it is true. He remembers. Not even eternity can wash out memories. Michael had always been the stubborn one, Gabriel the forgiving one and Raphael the tender, lenient one.

“The cherubs are worrying, we are all worrying – “

“Why do you worry when there is a plan written for everyone? You have all witnessed one fall, is the second still so shocking... “

“Kai, please –“

“I can’t... I’ve been ripped from Holy, I can’t understand those anymore because I have sinned and I carry the sin... it’s his choice. It had always been, as it is your choice to talk with me even when you know it’s not right and have no authority to do so...”

They remain in silence because there are no words left to say. Gabriel is searching for answers he can’t have, just as Michael had searched his own answers and will regret it, just as Lucifer had warned him.

“Go home, Gabriel, everything will be okay,” he smiles as he turns around and makes his leave, knowing the angel listened to his words and already flew.

 

 

 

Heaven didn't break the first time, it won't do the second.

 

 

 

 

“You know what I noticed?” Michael’s voice is loud through his head but he continues to sip from the cup of coffee as though he hadn’t heard. “The place where Tree of Life used to be carries a burn,” and from the used tone of voice, he has a feeling that a narration will come from the other’s lips; a narration he has no desire to hear.

“When I ripped your Wings and they turned black, Raphael and Gabriel said to take them to the Tree and let the cherubs guard them as they guarded the Tree... but I refused!” the calm wave of the words make his insides twirl like wind tornados.  

He wants to ignore him, maybe he’ll just go back from where he came if he keeps getting ignored but his voice cracks, faint as chapped lips barely move.

“I really don’t –“

“You know what I did instead?” a hint of rage, a feeling that an angel shouldn’t feel, not without important matters. “I never listened to them, I didn’t even think at that because I thought that such sin touched elements should never remain in Heaven,” and with the tail of his eyes he can see the blond bow his spine in utter misery. It’s a sight that he had never seen before, that no angel ever seen before. Michael simply...

His lips tugged at the corners in a twitch.

But Luhan.

“I should have listened to them... but when they were sent to heal your bleeding, I – I set them on fire...”

Part of Kai shouldn’t be surprised because Lucifer had always known this. Even after he was no longer a holy entity he could still feel some of the happenings up there. The hidden turmoil or the forever boiling atmosphere that he was unconsciously trying to insert in heaven, he didn’t know, but he could feel it on his skin, on the back of his torso, on the shivers of his nape.  

Yet his eyes widened and jaw tightened. Then his eyes narrowed and the colour darkened, knuckles going white against the table’s surface. The coffee had been long forgotten.

“When you fell...” he’d been cast down, “The Tree of Life started to wither and disappeared in thin air,” he didn’t care anymore, “and a lone spot remained. It’s there where I let the right wings burn – on the same spot where the tree was supposed to be,”

He got up from his seat fingers fondling the cold wood. Half cup of coffee stared back at him, as in a mocking manner, black sinking into his own black eyes. He kept silent, thinking at what he could say. What was there to say?

“Have you never questioned why your right shoulder hurts each autumn, when leaves start falling down? The only moment when your body actually feels pain?”

Kai closes his eyes, one, because the voice starts sounding broken, with emotions, with tears and every human feelings, and second, because if he’d be as vulnerable as he once was, he knew he’d cry.

Because Luhan,

“I’m really not interested in hearing any of this,” it’s too late already is left forgotten. The apologies and feelings and pain and everything are long forgotten.

 

 

 

 

After all, they say the devil was once an angel... and the devil will never become one again.

 

 

 

 

There are days when he doesn’t want to leave the house. There are days when he acts exactly like a depressed human, days when he imitates any and everything from a human’s behaviour.

There are days when he longs for the angel’s presence and there are days when he hates thinking about him, hate’s the image he has in his mind, hates seeing him, all the innocence that he still has to lose and those lightened features that somehow look wrong on his face. Like a twisted face, something that doesn’t match.

There are days when he sits by the river and waits from the early morning to late night, past midnight, watching up at the shinning dots that decorate the dark abyss from above. And for a brief second he thinks of the other abyss, the one underneath.

And he feels disgust.

There are days when he sleeps all day, when he gets lost through sheets and the warmth surrounding him and he remembers the burnt on his back at the other’s touch. There are times when in his sleep, images simply don’t display before his eyes and those days are truly when he finally takes a rest, when he feels as human as he could ever be.

Those days are still rare, only when the river suddenly calms and seems to stop the flow of the water.

He sees the blond head often, maybe too often. He sees him in crowds, walking along with others, he sees him sitting on a bench in parks, looking at the sky and plants and flying birds, he sees him ogling with wide eyes at some shops showcases, fascinated by bright lights and expensive clothing or handcrafted objects. He sees him smiling at animal shops, even entering them, and he simply can’t help the headache he gets afterwards.

Because it’s so easy to get deceived and lured in by mankind’s world and it’s so easy to get attached and so hard to do anything else. So each time he sees him, spending time on Earth, he vanishes as quickly as he can because he doesn’t want to take part to such thing, he doesn’t want to witness it willingly.

It’s painful, once entered the human world to leave. It’s painful to see and hear him laughing from the bottom of his heart.

 

 

 

 

There will come a time when that laugh will turn to chapped, shivering lips, begging for mercy and help and have no reason to stretch over white teeth for a long time.

 

 

 

 

Summer turns to autumn once again and he still sits by the river’s side, counting yellow hairs of grass, fingers cold and arms surrounding bent knees, chin digging hard on bone structure. From time to time his eyes still fly to the other side of the river but no one stands there anymore, person probably lost among city streets, memorizing, familiarizing, bonding heart with ephemeral creations.

And then the day is lost again and again, until night comes and stars shine mockingly above his head. And he stares at them, counts the falling ones when he sees them and wonders who might be dying and who might get born, reborn and who might be crying over there.

But he gets no answer and he gets frustrated because time is passing and yet it isn’t.

Time isn’t passing when trees start to lose leaves and his shoulder twitches in pain; by the time trees are empty, , wittered, he can barely move his torso, coldness seeping through his bones, ice crystals cracking them. This time of the year he sees a shadow standing on the other side of the river making him wonder if he’s guarding the water or if he’s guarding him.

It’s that time of the year when he frowns because of multiple reasons.

It’s been a year.

 

 

 

 

When they meet again, Michael has dark hair again. And a whisper of the wind haunts him again as it sings lullabies in his eardrum; Luhan

 

 

 

 

He doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not, if the shorter one of them knows what he’s doing or not but what they have starts to change. It starts to change when Michael sits beside him by the river watching with curious eyes how flowing water decreases its speed, how the surface slowly starts to turn into ice.

He says nothing because there is nothing to say from either side. Lucifer has no control over it, Michael probably thinks of its consequences.

Therefore, he laughs when suddenly the other lies down, arms spread widely, chest rising with deeply inhaled air. His eyes close and Kai wants to smile because he looks stupid, like a child being allowed for the first time outside in midsummer. Yet, he doesn’t, only glancing at him and returning his eyes back to the flowing water.

It takes him by surprise when he feels a warm hand fondling his back, fingertips dancing on his shoulder blade. He says and does nothing, allowing his insides to burn and melt, his chocked voice to hum.

The river is calm today.

 

 

 

 

If you feed it, the fire will grow stronger and stronger... uncontrollable.

 

 

 

 

The touches from the other increase with each meeting they have. The times when Michael smiles, laughs also increase in number and he has unknown feelings about this change, mostly because it happens all too fast, too soon, too sudden.

It’s nearly December and the colder it gets outside the warmer Kai feels on the inside.

This time he’s indoors when he knocks into Michael all of sudden.

He started to appear anywhere lately, anytime, like a ghost, body condensing from thin air. He wonders since when does he control this new ability, remembering that only he had it a long time ago. He never asks though. Ability transfers among angels from one to another were common even when he was there. So he swallows.

He feels fingers digging into his arms and it burns so hard that he gets petrified. But Michael smiles as he takes off his hands, stepping back and looking at him. He gets no time to open his mouth and ask –

“Didn’t you miss me?” the question is blunt and quick. He blinks, watching the other’s hands disappearing inside his jacket’s pockets. Tongue feels like sand but his lips part in trying to form a reply.

“You seem so lonely sometimes, so I came to play!”

And the reply suddenly drowns inside his guts, sinking deep low into his flesh.

 

 

 

 

“I’ve been thinking lately,” now most of their conversations are started by him, his smooth, angelic voice ringing joyfully through air. The contrast between now and then is enormous, he thinks as he sits back and watches the other. If it was only him talking back then, now it’s almost only Michael talking.

“Have you ever gone camping?” and his eyes are wide that he gets lost into the depth of them. But how did he know of camping? The shorter smiles. “Have you ever done human activities, like taking trips to the mountain and going to the sea side or what humans usually do – “

“So what, you see me only staying indoors and walking to the river?” and Michael sinks further into the couch, shrugging, no answer escaping his lips.

An angel not responding...

“Of course I did, it’s a reason why I chose to become like one of them, Michael... I could have always remained myself and rule in hell, you know...”

“Why did you choose this? Why did you want to be like them?” and his voice turned soft, lost in time and space, transparent, so Kai had to look at him. Something stirs on the inside as he looks at the unfocused child buried in pillows. He’s cracking. His own facade is cracking open and Kai has no idea what he could find inside.

He averts his eyes.

Something starts boiling inside his chest and it’s not pride, nor anger, nor lust. It’s something else he has yet to define.

“I wanted to see why God loved them so much that He put their creation above us...”

 

 

 

 

“And have you found out?” but the shook of head is discouraging.

“No but maybe because angels are His soldiers while humans are His children,” he speaks as his steps lead to the wide glass facing the city. “After all, all angels do is protecting the mankind, isn’t it right? Because even though they sinned and still sin, He forgives them but He never forgives us...” and the bitter taste returns, over and over again.

 

 

 

 

It’s cold outside.

“Can you take me to the sea side? Camping...” there is determination in his voice and Kai almost steps on the edge of the river in shiver. He looks over to the other and freezes when his eyes are boiling with emotions, almost spilling over the black orbs. They are frowning, both of them, one in pure ambition and the other in utter misery.

The dark haired one feels determinate. The blond one feels sad.

“I can teleport myself, I just need directions...” the voice cracks and Lucifer feels intrigued. Yet his mouth remains sealed, only body moving further until he’s standing face to face with the other.

His instinct is to pass his hand through the dark hair but he resists, instead offering his hand to be taken. There are moments of silence and deep stares until fingers touch his and both bodies disappear.

It’s not that Lucifer denies one’s desire.

 

 

 

 

The corners of his lips rise and pride strikes his chest like lightening.

 

 

 

When you have the ocean by your side is ten times colder. When you have no building around to block the wind, the coldness crack through your bones and paralyze you. Yet no one complains because it’s mid December and they see the raging ocean and they feel the sand beneath them. The view is breath taking as Michael tells and what does the cold matter anyway when you get to do what you desired for so long...

Kai swears that at a moment – a fracture of second – the other’s eyes tear up. But the smile on his lips tells him otherwise. The smile never leaves Michael’s lips especially when there are white crystals falling down from the sky. It only helps it grow wider, shinier, making Kai crack a smile as well.

First snow. Second time seen with the other by his side.

“Look, Kai! Gabriel is happy!”  The laugher makes the voice even more melodious and Kai looks up, not wanting to ruin the other’s mood. His happiness is precious. It had always been precious to him. And he forgets that for the first time he’d been called Kai and not Lucifer, and that the word Luhan get’s lost between snowflakes.

He forgets that his first thought is actually Or maybe he’s just crying! And for the first time he is happy because of the other’s happiness.

 

 

 

 

Words get lost and have no meaning anymore between lost old friends.

 

 

 

 

His bangs are getting long and he considers a haircut but having Michael around is getting difficult to do ordinary chores, making him still eye the pill of clothes gathered at the bathroom or the messy living room that hadn’t been cleaned in a while. The other is behaving like a small child in a foreign country. It amuses him.

“Why don’t you just observe first than asking me useless questions?” he asks as he gathers misplaces pillows and things that Michael just feels beckoned to move around from their place.

“But I did observe... I just still don’t understand some things...” and Kai sighs because it’s already – and still – January and the earth is frozen enough for prohibiting him to go to the river. The water is frozen, flowing only deep underside where he cannot see yet.

“You just cannot – your place is not here, Michael...”

“What do you mean, I’m still on my mission to protect children, I hope you didn’t forget –“

“That is not what I meant, Michael – “

“You don’t mean a lot of things and yet you never really say what you want. Pick up your mind, Kai, I thought you’re sincere!” the reply is instant as he stands up and comes closer to him, eyes searching maps on his face, maps that he’s not yet prepared to show.

So he ends up sighing again, a habit he picked from the humans when they had enough of something they feel uncomfortable with. There is a tremor inside his chest when Michael smiles and rests his hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping softly, comforting.

“Don’t worry –“

“I’m not! I just want you to go back from –“

“You’re not one to tell me –“

“I know that as well!” his voice raises unconsciously, making the brunet blink. “I no longer have authority over you, I know, but you also have none here, in my house, in this world! So take a good advice and consider my words...”

And Kai has no time to anger himself up because the angel already moves away, eyebrows knitted and lips thin. He’s left confused as the other trails to the window, fingers twitching and unstoppable, because he doesn’t know if he feels disappointed in himself or frustrated because of the other.

Lately, since the frequent visits, he feels a lot like humans and it bothers him.

 

 

 

 

He’s reminded of ancient times, when everything was white and unblemished.

 

 

 

 

“You never told me why you always come here... there must be a story behind, mustn’t it?” the tiny smile on his lips makes Kai move his eyes from the person to the river. It sends shivers on his arms and it’s not because of February weather.

“It must be, who knows...”

“You never talk about yourself, Kai! Why is that? There are so many things I want to know and –“

“What is there for you to know, else from what you already do?” he’s losing patience so fast lately. “Nothing, because you’ve already seen and I’ve already told you what you wanted to know...”

But Michael has no limit now that he’s at it.

“You know what I’m talking about, Kai...” he drops the snowbell flower, letting it crash against wet soil, snow not yet fully melted. Kai watches the white petals sink in mud, never to be white again. “Yes, you answered all my questions and you told me about humans and behaviours and emotions but you never talked about yourself. I want to know about you and how you feel, not – How do you cope like this, Kai, with this life –“

“I don’t cope, okay!?” he yells as he turns around, steps guiding fast toward the other. He stops only when he’s face to face with the other, fingers tight around the other’s jacket. “I have never coped with this! I still hate this place, I still hate everything and I’m still angry about everything, do you understand?!” he yells as the other remains stoic, eyes wide with a deep look into them.

Lucifer hates it when he stares deeply into his soul. He hates it because he’s always hiding it, never revealing to the eyes of curious being. But with Michael, it’s different. It had always been.

“I never complied with this change and I’ll never accept it. I’ll just try to suppress and control all these feelings that hunt me each moment as mankind breathes... “ the roughness of his eyes prevent Michael from speaking, knowing best than getting him angry.

The fingers around thin material start to paralyze so he unclenches them, arms falling beside slim bodies, the close proximity heavy with their breaths and locked stares.

“This is your beloved truth, I hope you like it,” and for the first time, words escape with venom despite the fact he never intended them to.

But Michael does nothing but stare back, eyes lost through space as they start to change in colour. Lucifer smirks. One eye red the other blue never means a good thing, not even among angels.

Being able to see the connection between Earth and Heaven can be even worse than a burden.

 

 

 

 

Lucifer vanishes in thin air before Michael can recover. After all it’s been a while since the angel is not present in any of the Worlds.

 

 

 

 

They see each other in March and the sun already started to heat the Earth once again. Once again he finds himself losing time by the river’s side, losing himself through turbulent waves. He never disliked the feeling of being swallowed of those hypnotic movements. He never disliked drowning over and over again into the loneliness and silence, into the darkness of the water and the coldness of it.

But when he sees the other he’s bothered by the appearance.

Usually, when winter passed he’d be back to his normal appearance, pure blond and white clothes, thin jacket and bloomed lips. But he’s not, Michael looks even faded as he looked in winter. His lips and face completely pale, hair darker than the pit of hell, clothes as black as his eyes.

There is no flicker in his eyes anymore; there is no colour and soul into them. There’s a saying that goes by if a being has different eye colour, one can see through Heaven and the other human’s world. They say that the eyes are the mirror of the soul and he’s sad for once that he cannot read Michael anymore.

His eyes lost the hazel colour. And Kai hesitate to look at him as he watches the sky. He knows that there will be no blue and red colour into them anymore. He knows that if he’d ask the other to show his wings they wouldn’t be as pure as they once were. They’d be ash gray, all pairs of it.

And Kai has no soul and power to ask him this. Instead, he settles his glance over the other’s body and observes silently the reluctant moves of fingers, as if writing words in thin air, as if engraving the earth with a fragment of his being.

He’s silent, so silent. Michael had never been this silent before, afraid to move, afraid to ask. Lost in transition, not in heaven but neither on earth.

He can’t help but notice the contrast of the moment they share now and the moment they shared last year.

“Do you know the story of this river?” his voice is calm and inviting, eyes warm and smile so playful. The other blinks and he takes the opportunity to smile at the reaction. He dares to talk again but the topic completely different.  

“Drop the fear, it will be useless from now on, really... you just have to be braver than never before and face it with your chin up, Michael –“

“Tell me the story of the river!” he’s lost, spellbound and Kai is not sure if he wants to break the spell he’s under, unsure what could lie under the surface. Even so, he smiles, pride eating him alive.

“When I fell, I provoked a big crack in every existence; in heaven I’ve broken lots of things –“ he pauses, reminiscing, reopening wounds and faces he’d like to never remember again; pained faces, bloodied ones.

“On earth I’ve made only one crack, a sole but deep one. I ruined the fauna that was reigning here, deserting the place. This is also where I’ve broken bonds... and drowned that half in ice like water. I wanted to extinguish the fire, I wanted to – “ he laughs.

There were so many things he wanted. He wonders if Michael had watched over him at that time, he wonders if he knows, if he felt something... anything.

He probably didn’t, once that his begs never had an answer.

“This river represents everything I am on this world, outside of heaven; it represents my soul, my turmoil, my fears and nightmares, everything...”

Michael moves slightly, lips parting, breath heaving.

“Is that why it’s raging?”

 

 

 

 

Lucifer might not have open up to any one and anything until now, even more to an angel, and maybe he has no control over Azazel anymore but he can take power over the river and can make it drop the temperature degrees below zero. Even in spring...

 

 

 

 

“Do you have any idea in what you’ve tangled yourself into?” he asks one night, body sunk into the couch, eyes never leaving the shadow beside the window. Lights play over the thinner and thinner features, over the blank face and coloured eyes.

Kai frowns, the other doesn’t move. It started becoming a problem the moment he couldn’t control his powers anymore, the moment he lost hold of his own appearance.

“I don’t regret any of – “

Kai doesn’t flinch and doesn’t get scared or surprised when large, single pair of wings suddenly invades his living room.

“I know that, I asked if you knew what you’ve gotten yourself into...” but the reply gets unspoken, the silence of the night eating them both as time passes and none of them move.

 

 

 

 

Shoulders shake, knees buckle and Kai doesn’t know how to react. It’s been long since he dealt with feelings, with actions and with beating, bleeding hearts.

 

 

 

 

Spring turns to summer and it’s terrible spending the summer caged by walls, fighting with sudden bolts of power and uncontrollable changes. The suggestion of going back until it gets better flies unheard through the area until someone finally snaps and cracks a little more under the pressure.

“I don’t understand... why can’t I control it anymore?” the voice cracks as fists turn white against marble counter, eyes tightened on doleful face.

He takes pity on him. for the first time he recognizes that feeling of pity, the hunched, lithe body looking thinner and thinner with each passing day. Skinnier, weaker, slowly fading away that glow he usually carried with him.

It’s not his fault that Michael doesn’t listen.

“It’s just the effect of spending too much time outside of heaven despite the fact you’re still an angel. You’re simply getting detached of –“

“It’s not that... I know it’s not that... I’ve done it before and never happened this...the missions – “

“Be sincere, Luhan... when was the last time you received a mission, now?!” and both the slipped name and the question receive no reply as the person disappears in thin air from the middle of the room.

He’s not surprised. It’s been three months since Michael went home and no angel – even archangel – can spend this much time away from their origins.

 

 

 

 

Humans would say that it’s just summer rain but it’s a lot more than that. They don’t know anything... they don’t know that an angel is sad when it rains, that he grieves and desires. They don’t know that it rains for a week and that a soul simply breaks between clouds, that his chest hurts when he steps into the living room and the silence engulfs everything around.

 

 

 

 

He jumps when the crash deafens him in the middle of the night. He doesn’t have time to frown and process anything because there’s a massive ball against the floor, barely trying to move, whimpers escaping thin lips. He’s up faster than he’s ever remembered to move before and his arms find their way circling the shivering shoulders, in attempt to help the body up.

The whimpers get louder and his guts twist and tear at the sound. An angel shouldn’t be in pain, shouldn’t feel pain if it’s not proved by one of his own. And his eyes widen because he hasn’t realized that he took the body into his arms, protecting it into a hug, and he didn’t feel the weak arms circling his torso in reply, fingers ghosting over his back but no burning sensation pricking at his skin.

Kai panics.

Having not dealing with emotions for such a long time and having a broken angel back into his arms, he panics.

 

 

 

 

It’s not like Lucifer forgot the last sight of an angel before making the mistake that brought his fall.

 

 

 

 

He thumbs the closed pupils even when the other flinches away. He passes his hand through messed hair as he pushes the blanket higher, making the other protest voiceless. He fondles white skin as bicoloured eyes glance back.

He doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t because he had never been in this posture before. He had no one beside him when he’d been casted down, Gabriel and Raphael simply took the pain away, never stood to nurse him, fix him back, and he’d never taken care of someone before.

But Michael understands, he can see it in his eyes. He knows, he’d seen.

“I’ve given back powers, turned out that transfers helped more than –“

“Shh... “

“I – Kai, I ...”

“Just, don’t talk! Build back energy and don’t talk... we’ll do that later,” he tells as he straightens up, fingers numb yet pricking to touch.

But they never.

Lucifer avoids and Michael doesn’t dare to ask.

 

 

 

 

Like history repeating itself.

 

 

 

 

By the second year spent by walking behind a thin frame and monitoring slow, steady steps, Kai stops questioning the other’s presence. He stops questioning his existence on Earth and stops talking about everything above them. He stops trying to sip advices through large cracks that he’s conscious that he’ll never be able to fix ever again.

So, he just is. They just are; they just exist together, breathing the same air, walking in synchronized steps, always one a little more ahead than the other.

By the second year, they no longer spend it by the river’s side but among large streets with bright lights lightening up the darkness ahead. By the second year, Kai starts losing himself into dark eyes once again and Michael stops asking questions.

They walk in silence, like always, like respecting an unspoken bargain.

It became a stubborn choice, Kai had noticed. The other hadn’t disappeared in the last months, ever since autumn came, ever since he woke up with the crashing body in the middle of his apartment. It’s a choice that will doom him but who is he to decide for him...

So he watches him walk, listens to him when he talks, looks at him when the other simply breathes. Something tingles inside his chest, and by his knowledge, it’s not pride, neither lust nor greed, neither rage nor hatred.

It’s something else, something he can’t really get a hold of. It’s something that reminds him of his roots, of his origins and of his past.

Michael starts to fade. His natural glow and light, his pure nature and holy presence start to dim, to sip through concrete of sinner’s world and get wasted on polluted air.

Michael starts to fade; Luhan starts to grow in power... and Kai is slowly losing himself again in the essence of the same spirit, risking repeating the same old carvings, cleaning the dust on it, revealing the ugly truth that had been covered by years and years of misery.

“I want to go to that selected place people fancy and get well and nicely dressed up for... can we go?” the person ahead of him turns around and ask with wide, shaking eyes. There’s a flashing emotion on his face, something mixed between hope and curiosity and excitement.

“What do you mean? Where do you want to go?” his voice is slow, patient because even if his temper is short he’s still trying to accommodate the other to human’s behaviour. He’s still trying to help him accommodate with the state of expressing, talking wishes and vocal language.

“That place where they play music and gather in cherubic harmony...”

Opera.

Kai’s lips curl upwards and he suppresses a roll of eyes. Of course he’d want to go to the opera.

 

 

 

 

Michael is the perfect resemble of a melody, Kai thinks.

 

 

 

 

After that, they go out more often than Kai ever remembers going out. They use the apartment only to sleep and sip tea during breakfast, not that Michael really needs it but there are sometimes red tiny dots in the white of his eyes and Kai can’t bring himself to watch him ruin himself willingly.

He tries to interact as much as he can with the other but with minimal effect on him. He learnt to make small chat, to smile at his silly words but to never do more than a touch on his arm when things get too much, too deep. He learnt how to alert the other with a simple gaze of his eyes, no words between them, making Michael understand on his own. Then are the times when he displays a look of disappointment, like he’d like to ask – speak – more, to get to know and feel more but the stern grip on his arm is unbuckling. Then are the times Luhan disappears for undefined periods of time, leaving Kai with a burning feeling onto his palm, skin like fire and rough.

He begins to regret times like these, when he misses the unstoppable chat of the other’s, when he searches for a silhouette ahead of him but never finding it. Yet he freezes in his track when he’s met with a blue pairs of eyes staring back at him during one morning. His lips crack up a grin and the other laughs within the bottom of his heart, emanating heat and comfort. 

“I wanted to see you,” the voice is tender and he knows. He feels it. Despite this all, he can’t help but be amazed by his idiocy, by his rushed decisions and wrong actions. Kai doesn’t scold him thou because that would be the last the other would need and he has to deal with something flowering inside his chest, something between pride and content.

“Should we do something about that?” and Luhan beams, his face becoming red for the first time Kai has ever seen him. He watches and catches the soft sound escaping the cherry lips before the other’s face disappears between pale hands. 

It’s endearing.

Kai sees red scratches somewhere on the left hand, deeper ones going under the sleeve, up on his arm and probably farther. His lips twitches and eyes darken.

“I should go back,” there is a long pause in which the shorter takes a deep breath he doesn’t need. ”Aren’t I selfish with doing this...” the question sound like a statement, a statement that doesn’t need any more words added. It gets lost somewhere between the airs in front of them and Kai takes a step closer.

“Are you now?!”

And eyes widen, hands dropping from the face. Neither of them moves any further. Neither of them speaks.

 

 

 

 

“Selfishness is the anaesthetic of humanity. Once it catches you, you cannot escape it...” Lucifer had once told Michael, whiteness surrounding them, no space and no time between their breaths. One had blinked, the other had smiled. Neither of them moved.

 

 

 

 

It’s raining with thunders and lightening when he wakes up. The sky is covered in gray, dark clouds making sure no sunray breaks through the heavy rain. The thunders ring loudly, too loud, too angry; the lightning strikes fast, too bold, too close to earth. The air is choked with something, with fog and Kai doesn’t need to go to the river’s side to know it’s boiling with rage because he’s choking.

His lungs seem to explode and he cannot do anything but wait and wait for a grasp of air, cannot do anything but wait and hear of something, anything; to know that everything is all right – even though he knows it isn’t.

He cannot do much, not when his lungs burn, tongue foreign and back melting into the lava pouring over his torso.

He doesn’t remember much. He blacks out, the fire inside his chest spreading through his whole body, eyes rolling behind tired eyelids.

It’s a moment of a time when he feels a flushing on his skin. It’s a moment when he feels a brush on his face, a feather like touch. It’s just a moment but he feels it deep engraved onto his skin, moment when his eyelashes flutter. He’s opening his eyes and there is nothing in front of his vision, not even when he moves his head to look around, to make himself conscious of what is happening.

It’s still raining though not that hard, not as heavy. It’s still raining but there is no thunder and lightning. It’s still raining but he’s not choking anymore. He stands up, rising from his bed, bare feet crossing over the room, silent on the cold floor.

He feels alright so the sudden weakness in his muscles comes unpredictably making him fall from his feet, body twisting in tiny spasms. He’s panicking, especially when there are stabs at his shoulder blades, the burning sensation increasing in intensity. It’s not autumn, he should not be able to feel, it’s barely the end of spring.

It simply cannot burn....

He screams, panic sipping through his bones, back arching painfully against the cold floor the cooling material making him feel the intensity a little bit lower but it doesn’t help much. He tries to gain his regular breathing but he fails for the first time. His eyes widen and his body simply doesn’t know what he’s reacting to.

“Luhan,” the murmur is silent, fear cracking his face, eyes shutting tightly. He yells.

“Luhan!”

 

 

 

 

The cost of his rebellion was a War of Angels. Back then Michael had fought him, order or willingly, he still fought him.

 

 

 

 

Their encounter happens two weeks later. The raining has ended one week before.  

He doesn’t meet him coincidently, nor does he receive a visit or anything like before. Kai is simply beckoned while walking among the streets. There is a strangely familiar melody playing in his head and he follows the sound unconsciously, steps heading him to nowhere.

It’s a calm melody, too calm and too tender for his liking but he remembers it clearly once he starts hearing it louder. He remembers it being played under blossoming trees, piano keys being pressed gently by slender fingers. He remembers it being accompanied by harp and his eyes get clouded because the memory is so alive and fresh that he feels like he’s living it once again.

It’s the same melody he listened for so long, the same melody he had learnt it by heart, replaying it over and over again even after his fall from the grace, replaying it during his fallen. It’s the melody he had fallen in love on, watching the fingers that moved with such ease and grace, with such tenderness and love.

He stops in front of a glass window door. He stops while his eyes land on a petite silhouette, back facing him but still getting a glimpse of his face. A glimpse of his vibrant and such lively smile, a glimps of his moving hands, fingers not so graceful on the key anymore but creating the same effect.

He realizes it’s a music shop and he can’t bring himself to enter and interrupt the memory of heaven. He cannot; it would be cruel even for himself because he wants to remember, he wants to live those moments once more for a little longer and because he wants to see him smile like that.

And he wonders if it’s the same smile he once saw up there, while facing him as he played, surrounded by all the other archangels.

Lucifer cries.

Kai cannot stop the tears rolling down his cheeks, neither can the world passing by, neither can the ghost of Michael.

The silhouette looks devastated. The once white clothes are grey, ravished, resembling more like rags draped over his slim body, making Kai wonder how he even got permitted to enter the store.

His eyes catch blood over the knuckles, scratches creeping up faintly on his nape and if he’d looked closer he’d noticed little drops of blood under the tiny bench he’s sitting. But he doesn’t want to notice, he just wants to get lost into the melody and forget everything else.

 

 

 

 

His eyes spark with emotion, emotions that should not be there but he can’t bring himself to hide when the keys in sol key are ringing so loudly, making his heart burst. He smiles brightly at the person in front of him, his fingers automatically moving on the hard surface, movements mirroring the other’s.

“I want to love you forever...” it’s barely a murmur and suddenly the melody stops.

 

 

 

 

It’s amusing and sad how he came to still keep his promise. It’s insane if he thinks about it. After all he had lived, after all that had happened he can still feel himself trapped by those words, heart heavy each time he looks at him. It’s sad because even if he had tried to forget, he couldn’t so he’d be stuck in another broken loop with no exit out.

And Kai wants someone to hold him as he breaks in the middle of the street. He wants a hand to sooth away the pain in his chest and the burning on his back. He wants a voice to murmur nothings to him and make him forget even for one single minute and he wants a shoulder to hide his face into when he feels his vision clouded with tears.

Yet he has nothing of those.

He only has a cold shiver running down his spine, making him paralyze for some moments before continuing his road. There had been months since he stood by the river’s side and there had been weeks since he last saw him. He hadn’t visited. Kai hadn’t found him wandering on the streets.

But sometimes Lucifer has the feeling a pair of distorted blue eyes are watching him somewhere close by. He has a feeling that he just doesn’t want to make himself seen because there is that constant pressure on the back of his head, blue eye and red eye mixing with his vision and making him see the world as distorted as it is.

Kai takes a deep breath inside, eyes closing and opening as dark as the pit of the ocean. He shudders.

Then, he runs.

It’s like chasing a shadow. Running and running until legs start to hurt and give up, until it’s hard to balance his weight any longer. It’s like chasing a ghost, never really catching anything, nothing materializing in front of him. But he continues running, blood rushing to his temples, eyes cracking under pressure. The breath he took in is stuck inside his throat, adding a constant burning to his lungs.

If this kind of pain can bring him closer to his task then he gladly complies.

 

 

 

Somewhere in the depth of the night, on Bucheon’s streets, he feels chased, a predatory presence stuck to his back even though there is nothing behind him. it’s just a ragged breath that he hears drumming in his eardrums that makes him run faster, aimlessly crossing paths and passing bricks.

Then he falls, knees painfully coming in contact with rough concrete, palms breaking at the impact, the burning of his grazed skin burning so intensively it makes his blink away liquid. It’s the second time something like this frightens him. He cannot feel pain, yet here he is. 

But then he raises his eyes and everything cracks.

 

 

 

 

The two expressions of the same face come in contradiction now that he looks at the face in front of him. If the image stuck in his mind is the same one as this one then he should engrave them both on his retina, bury then both in his mind. As the last one he remembers is pure, blessed with happiness, splashed with confusion, this one is pained with uncertainty, regret and pity. He watches it between tears and blood, between suppressed growls and raw screams. He doesn’t break contact even when flesh starts to rip and blood starts to split.

 

 

 

 

He’s there. Michael is there; but more important Luhan is there.

Kai feels his stomach turn and heart being stabbed because this shouldn’t be happening. There he is. He’s right there. He’s on the ground, the dead end of an alley between massive buildings that seem empty and forgotten. He’s there but Kai can’t move closer to him.

Michael shouldn’t writhe in pain. His body shouldn’t bend and spasm awkwardly, clearly in pain and shock, as an after result of the wounds he carries on himself. He should not fight this urgent in order to breath and he shouldn’t cough uncontrollably for his life. He shouldn’t be covered in mud and sweat mixed with blood, he shouldn’t writhe and crawl, fighting to keep himself alive.

His eyes shouldn’t alternate between blue and red, bloodshot and rolling, neck twisting in pain, covered in blood and sweats, scratches and mud. He shouldn’t do any of this, but bleed and groan.

Yet he’s here, living such torture between muffed screams and whimpered growls. He’s here, the right set of dark wings still attached to his back and Kai feels going mad. He tries crawling closer but his muscles simply refuse to cooperate.

He hears shuffles and cries and the dark feathers attached to his wings start to fade, falling and floating through air, gluing to his bloody back and making everything even dirtier. The wings flutter weakly, agitating through air and he wants to scream at him to stop because it is only making the pain worse. He shouldn’t move.

Kai’s throat is closed, constricted to nothing.

Michael whimpers, tears running through sweaty hair and bloody face, body turning to the side, wings resting on the pavement, almost getting trapped under the cut back. Lucifer still tries to put his mind to work, his body to respond.

The other’s left wings are cut down, his right set isn’t. He’s writhing in pain and the archangels aren’t here to soon away the cruel torture. Lucifer breaks, broken palms dragging him over the concrete. It’s agonizing how long it takes him to reach the other’s arm, or he thinks it takes long, he doesn’t know, nothing seems to work anymore.

The skin under his palm is burning, making him remember the familiar feeling from thousands and thousands years ago. He doesn’t want to remember. He doesn’t want to live through that again. This all shouldn’t be happening.

His nails dig into the skin, pulling the body closer, broken screams echoing into his eardrum. He thinks he’s crying but he’s not sure; there is so much blood and tears already on the broken body he’s not sure of anything. He tries to comfort the broken one, to shush him silent, he wants to take his pain away, to put an end to all this cruelty but he cannot.

He tries to call out, for Gabriel, for Raphael, for anyone but there are only pained whimpers leaving his lips. He locks looks with Michael and to his surprise and horror there is no pain into his eyes. he is calm even, the look on his havel eyes frightening Kai. Then they are back to blue and red, back rolling and fluttering closed.

Kai shushes him, gluing foreheads together, palms on each side of his face, taking as much pain as his powers still allows him to.

Why did they let him fall? Why did they let him fall like this? They still haven’t ripped his wings off...

 

 

 

 

“Is it wrong, Michael?” the voice trembles. Fear should not be felt by angels yet it seeps through his bones and every fibre of his body. “Is it wrong to feel love?”

 

 

 

 

He’s having the other half pulled into his arms, Luhan’s chest close against his stomach, his hand passing slightly over the bloody back, fingers fondling against the opened gushes as in trying to calm down the pain. The other has stopped trashing around, his body relaxed and not spamming anymore. Their breaths are raged, raw against lungs, mixed with shudders and cold chills.

His free hand brushes slightly over the dark pair of feathers, feeling the roughness of it. He bites down on his lip. Luhan sobs.

“I.. I asked them to...” his voice is rough and hoarse, broken and unsteady. “Asked them to let ... to let them on... the right pair of wings for... for you to rip... I need you to – to do it. I need you to rip them off...” and Kai cannot respond, cannot comprehend and he only presses the other closer to him, careful as in not hurting him on his back.

“You’re still gifted... you can do it and I need you to – “his words are buried into his abdomen, words engraving into his skin. “I want you to rip them off, just like I did it to you...” and Kai is shaking his head because he can’t.

“You must to! It’s something you must do for me!” Kai burst in crying.

“Gabriel!” he shouts, arms tightening around Luhan, gluing him to his body.

“Please, Kai! Please... you are Lucifer, the first created, the first cherub... the Light Bearer, my light bearer...” Kai can’t. Lucifer might have the power but Kai can’t. Kai isn’t as strong.

“You made me a promise... do you remember it?” the voice cracks, the body in his arms writhing from time to time. He shakes his head, no, this can’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening. The paint should have been eased away quickly, not persist this agonizingly long.  

“You must keep it, you kept it for so long....”and Kai feels like screaming, his back burning all over and he wonders if the other feels the same thing, his body probably too numb because of the pain.

“I trust you, Kai! Just put an end to it, this pain, this burden...”

Kai cradles his face with his hands, palms rough against wet skin. they both have tears into their eyes but as his eyes are pleading, Luhan’s are calm, patient, waiting.

“Raphael!” he pleads, eyes closing, leaning closer to the other, one palm pushing back dark hair out of the other’s forehead. There is blood stuck everywhere. He calls the name once again, before locking eyes with the bloodshot ones, fingers fondling the broken face, touching the dry, bloody lips.

He can sense a white light somewhere behind them, around them, and he knows. His stomach does somersaults and his brain screams inside his head. He cries, one last time, eyes closing as fingers lock through the other’s hair, firmly holding at his nape.

“I’m sorry!” his voice cracks and left hand burns against the black roughness. The burn is familiar, the same kind of burn he first felt when they touched. Not painful, but like belonging home. “I’m sorry for putting you through this...” and his fingers curl around fragile bones.

 

 

 

 

His eyes are cried and wet, bloodshot and his face is twisted in pain and covered in blood. He recognizes no willing action but he still smiles. “If I shall suffer for you to be happy, then so be it... for eternity,”

 

 

 

 

“I asked them to burn the right set of wings...and keep the left one, so that your right and my left to form a whole...” it’s a midnight statement shared between scared bodies, buried under heavy blankets, knees to their chest, eyes wide – just like little kids.

“Do you think they are guarding them?” and a soft movement of head makes him smile. “I missed – “but he stops before even knowing what he wanted to say. He sinks a little further, his body leaning toward the other’s, arms brushing slightly.

“Is it still selfish if I want to start over?” and his eyes dart up to meet a dark hazel pair of eyes, his own hazel ones mirroring the light shining into them. He smiles despite the night that covers them both, hiding their faces from each other.

 

 

 

Luhan, i want you to be happy!