Page 43 of Raphael
As darkness creeps into view, I glimpse Uncle Lucifer, hovering silent witness beside dour Michael. Something about my peaceful expression seems to give him pause, stirring unfamiliar sentiments behind that severe visage. For an ephemeral moment, the harsh planes become smooth, almost gentle, watching me sink blissfully under. I fancy seeing glistening hints of sorrow or regret in his dark eyes before oblivion embraces me fully at last.
* * *
Hours pass,wrapped in a blank void. Eventually, the blankness fades to dull awareness that prods at me relentlessly. I rouse sluggishly, resigned to resurfacing fully, though I feel drugged still. As my blurred sight refocuses, shapes become coherent once again. And there, leaning over the bed with a tender smile of relief, is Raphael.
“Welcome back, sleepyhead,” Raphael greets me, handsome face alight with gladness as I blink up at him, confused. “I never strayed too far, just slipped off to stretch my legs briefly and grab an update for when you woke again. But I’m here now...”
With exquisite care, he props me upright, fussing over every pillow until he makes sure a certain level of comfort is achieved once more. I watch him move with fluid grace, all tension lifted from his broad shoulders with my improved condition. Already the image of avenging archangel fades away, leaving behind only the gentle face of a healer.
I struggle to speak through my cracked lips and cotton tongue, still feeling dazed and disoriented. Raphael notices immediately and offers a straw for me to drink from. The cool water washes away the foul taste lingering in my mouth, but my first rasping words emerge haltingly still.
“I never thought... I’d end up... quite like this...” I manage sluggishly. But Raphael’s steady patience focuses wholly on my fragmented sentences without expectation, for which my flowing gratitude emerges. However long my recovery takes, this loving archangel plans facing the journey in full stride together by my side.
“Witnessing such an ugly confrontation with your uncle?” he says gently, full of understanding. Gingerly, he sits on the mattress edge, facing me. “I’m sorry you got caught in the middle, my love. But listen, you don’t need to worry.” He pauses, gaze growing distant with memory. “There was a time once, eons ago, when Lucifer and I were as brothers.”
“Oh?” I can’t hide my surprise at this revelation.
“Yeah,” he breathes out. “And I’m hoping that bond still lingers, buried somewhere beneath the bitterness fate has sown between us. We even managed brief civil words out in the hallway earlier, your uncle and I. So take heart—a reconciliation may happen just yet.”
His smile fills me with hope, reinforcing my fragile belief that we can overcome the complicated dynamics that plague us. This love is a force to be reckoned with, capable of transforming even the most deep-seated hatreds if given the chance to fully bloom.
Raphael seems to read the pensiveness in my expression, for he adds pointedly, “I got Michael’s approval to stay with you tonight, to protect and support you through these crucial hours of healing.” His words are a firm declaration—his presence by my side is unwavering and it’s where he belongs.
He brushes a stray curl off my forehead with a gentle touch that aches in all the right ways. “I know you’ve never needed me to play the knight in shining armor before...” he adds in a low murmur. “Your fiery strength and independence inspire me daily, believe it. But for now, let’s lay pride aside? Let me take care of you?”
His ardent words leave me defenseless, unable to argue any further. And truly, my battered body cries out for the comfort of simply having Raphael’s reassuring nearness, promising safety. With a slight nod, I surrender to his plea, even though it ignites a fiery pain in my sore neck.
Raphael exhales in profound relief. His movements are careful and gentle as he pulls me closer, like a whispered prayer devoted to healing wounds that no one else can see.
Damn it to hell. My body is hurting all over, bruised and battered, yet all I can think about is how much I crave and adore this incredible man. My guardian archangel…
CHAPTER27
Raphael
As the sunsinks below the horizon, I stride through the gilded doors of the DeLux, nerves thrumming with banked fury. The overpowering smells and pulsing music instantly grate on my senses, even muffled by the crowded club floors. The allure of sin no longer tempts me tonight. I am on a mission, driven by a sense of justice rather than indulgence, navigating through this den of iniquity with its false veneer of glamour that promises temporary respite from mundane routines or crushing loneliness.
I move confidently through the opulent entrance hall. Instantly, all eyes fix on me. Hushed murmurs rise from the crowd, and I pick up admiration and bemusement tangled in their voices. They recognize the powerful archangel that stalks fiercely into their den of debauchery, yet none dare challenge my presence.
The suited guard at the management access visibly swallows as I approach, but wisely refrains from pointless provocation. With practiced ease, I descend the unpretentious staircase. The muted throb of chaos upstairs fades into a deafening silence as I make my way through the basement halls, where questionable diversions cater to those with exotic tastes and deep pockets—all under the watchful eye of the club owner.
My composure wears thin as I approach the designated meeting spot, passing shadowy corners that hide unspeakable horrors for a price. My spine turns to ice as I remember my lover’s battered and broken body, left bleeding just floors above not long ago.
As I enter the small private lounge, my hands tremble with rage. The infamous lord of all vices awaits me, his perfectly tailored suit hiding the evil within. After years of fighting against darkness, witnessing the atrocities in the trauma ward has pushed my empathy to its limits. But I can’t show weakness now.
“Raphael, you came. Please, join me.” Lucifer gestures the offer with a swift hand wave.
His mild words fan my fury swiftly back into an inferno again. I halt short of violently sweeping aside the luxurious furnishings, barely restraining my dramatic urges. We stand at the crumbling edge of a chasm, held back only by our fraying determined control on both sides.
“Do you still enjoy whiskey like no other angel?” Lucifer asks, lifting a cut crystal glass nonchalantly in my direction.
I sharply shake my head in refusal. “Let’s skip the pretense of hospitality today. You know why I’m here.” I fix my gaze on his relaxed features, my fierce eyes unwavering.
One elegant black brow rises silently as Lucifer sips his liquor, completely unfazed by my tense demeanor. It’s just another one of his showmanship feats. I grit my teeth, eager for the diplomatic pleasantries to end so we can get down to the real reason for this meeting––confronting the embodiment of viciousness itself.
“As you wish,” Lucifer finally speaks, heavy scorn lacing his words.
I struggle to find calm; it eludes me as I try to focus on redirecting this disaster.This is not a declaration of war,I remind myself,merely an advocacy for what is right. The path of violence will only lead to more bloodshed, and the archdemons will continue their endless machinations––I know that. But at this moment, my soul screams out for justice, and I cannot deny its call. Here lies the chance for us to heal the wounds that have divided us for ages.
