Page 13 of Uriel
“Of course there is,” Emilia says, her tone teasing. “Heaven forbid anything in your life be chaotic or unpredictable.”
As we begin with the oysters, I’m surprised by how easily the conversation flows. Emilia is... intriguing. Her mind is quick, her wit sharp. She asks questions about my “day job” that I’ve never considered before.
“So, what exactly does an archangel do all day?” she asks, delicately squeezing lemon over an oyster. “I mean, when you’re not moonlighting as a hospital administrator or averting the apocalypse.”
I consider for a moment. “It varies. Much of my work involves maintaining the balance between realms, ensuring the smooth transition of souls, overseeing lesser angels in their duties.”
“Sounds thrilling,” Emilia says dryly.
I chuckle, surprising myself. When was the last time I laughed so freely? “It has its moments. But I admit, it can be... tedious at times.”
“Is that why you decided to play doctor on Earth? Needed a change of pace?”
The question catches me off guard. I take a sip of wine, gathering my thoughts. “Partially,” I admit. “But it was more than that. I... I wanted to understand humanity better. To see your world up close, not just from the remove of the celestial plane.”
Emilia’s watching me intently, her eyes soft in the deepening twilight. “And? What’s the verdict? Are we everything you hoped we’d be?”
I meet her gaze, struck by the genuine curiosity there. “You’re... more,” I say softly. “More complex, more contradictory, more... everything than I could have imagined.”
A comfortable silence falls as we move on to the main course. I find myself watching Emilia more than I’m eating, fascinated by the play of emotions across her face as she savors each bite.
“This is incredible,” she says, closing her eyes in obvious pleasure as she tastes the truffle risotto. The sight does... things to me that I’d rather not examine too closely.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I say, taking another sip of wine to cover my sudden discomfort.
Emilia sets down her fork, her expression turning thoughtful. “Does it ever get tiring?” she asks. “Seeing humanity bash itself time and time again across history?”
I pause, considering. It’s a question I’ve asked myself more times than I can count. “Sometimes,” I admit. “There are moments when it all feels... overwhelming. The same mistakes repeated, the same cruelties inflicted.” I take another sip of wine, gathering my thoughts. “But then... then there are moments of such breathtaking beauty and kindness that it makes it all worthwhile.”
“Like what?” Emilia asks, leaning forward slightly. The movement causes that errant tendril of hair to brush against her cheek, and I have to resist the urge to tuck it behind her ear.
“A mother sacrificing everything for her child. A stranger risking their life to save another. The way humans create art and music that can move even an immortal being to tears.” I smile, remembering. “Once, I saw a man give his last piece of bread to a stray dog. It was such a small act, but the love in it...” I trail off, suddenly self-conscious. “I apologize. I’m not usually this... verbose.”
“No, please,” Emilia says, reaching out to touch my hand lightly. The contact sends a jolt through me. “I like hearing youtalk like this. It’s... different from the stern administrator I’m used to.”
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I feel that strange warmth again, stronger than ever. It’s disconcerting, this effect she has on me. I should be focusing on our task, on finding a way to avert the coming disaster. Instead, I find myself wanting to prolong this dinner, to learn every facet of the extraordinary woman sitting across from me.
As the evening progresses, I notice Emilia’s cheeks becoming increasingly flushed, her laughter more frequent and unrestrained. She’s on her third glass of wine, and I realize I should probably cut her off soon. But there’s something enchanting about seeing her so relaxed, so free from the worries that have plagued us both.
“You know,” she says, gesturing with her glass, “I always thought angels would be... I don’t know, stuffy? All harps and halos and ‘fear not’ and whatnot. But you’re actually kind of fun when you loosen up a bit.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Fun? I don’t believe anyone has ever accused me of that before.”
Emilia grins, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. Even for immortal beings, I guess.”
As we finish dessert, the sky has deepened to a velvety blue, stars beginning to twinkle overhead. I’ve lit candles on the table, their soft glow casting flickering shadows across Emilia’s face. She looks... radiant. There’s no other word for it.
“It’s beautiful out here,” she says, tilting her head back to look at the stars. The movement exposes the elegant line of her throat, and I swallow hard.
“Yes,” I agree, though I’m not looking at the sky. “Beautiful.”
Emilia turns back to me, catching my gaze. Something shifts in the air between us, a tension that’s been building all eveningsuddenly crystallizing. She leans forward slightly, and I mirror the action, drawn in by some invisible force.
For a wild moment, I think I might kiss her. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. But before I can do anything so reckless, Emilia stands suddenly, swaying slightly on her feet.
“Whoa,” she says, giggling. “I think that last glass of wine might have been a mistake.”
I’m at her side in an instant, steadying her with a hand on her elbow. “Perhaps we should call it a night,” I suggest gently.
