Page 18 of Uriel
Uriel raises an eyebrow. “You want to go shopping? Now?”
“Not shopping,” I clarify quickly. “Just... retrieving. From my own closet. Where I have jeans. And sweaters. And shoes that don’t have four-inch heels.”
He seems to consider this for a moment, his head tilted slightly. It’s almost... endearing. I quickly banish the thought.
“I suppose that could be arranged,” he says finally. “Though I’ll need to accompany you, of course. To maintain our... proximity.”
Right. Because being apart might trigger more earthquakes. Somehow, in the coziness of the morning, I’d almost forgotten the reality of our situation.
“Of course,” I say, aiming for nonchalance. “You’ll need to come with me. To avoid the end of the world, and all that.”
To my surprise, Uriel actually chuckles. It’s a warm, rich sound that I immediately want to hear again. “Indeed. Far be it from me to risk global catastrophe for the sake of your wardrobe.”
I can’t help but smile in return. “My hero,” I say, then immediately cringe as I remember using those exact words last night. But if Uriel notices, he doesn’t comment.
“We should leave soon,” he says, glancing out at the rain-soaked landscape. “The weather may worsen as the day progresses.”
I nod, draining the last of my coffee. “Just let me grab my things.”
Ten minutes later, we’re climbing into Uriel’s car—a sleek, midnight blue Audi Q8.Of course he drives an Audi, I think. Practical, luxurious, and just a touch pretentious. It suits him perfectly.
As we pull out of the long, winding driveway, the rain intensifies. Sheets of water cascade down the windshield, the wipers working overtime to maintain visibility. Uriel leans forward slightly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
“Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea,” he mutters, more to himself than to me.
I’m about to agree when suddenly, the car lurches to a stop. Water sprays up on either side as Uriel carefully reverses, but it’s no use. We’re stuck.
“What’s happening?” I ask, peering out the window. The world beyond the glass is a blur of grey and green.
Uriel’s jaw clenches. “The creek must have overflowed. The road ahead is flooded.”
My eyes widen as I take in the scene. Where the road should be, there’s now a swiftly moving stream of muddy water. It doesn’t look deep, but it’s certainly not something we should attempt to cross.
“Can we go back?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Uriel shakes his head. “The driveway behind us is on an incline. In this rain, we’d risk sliding off the road entirely.”
Great. Just great. Trapped in a car with an archangel in the middle of nowhere. If this were a romance novel, I’d be swooning. As it is, I’m just... nervous? Excited? I’m not sure which, and that uncertainty is maddening.
“So... what do we do?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounds.
Uriel lets out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “We wait,” he says simply. “The rain will let up eventually, and the water level will recede. We just need to be patient.”
Patient. Right. Because I’m so good at that.
An awkward silence descends, broken only by the steady drumming of rain on the roof. My fingers toy with the hem of my dress as I remain intensely attuned to Uriel’s proximity. The car suddenly feels very small.
“I, uh... I wanted to apologize,” I say finally, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “For last night. I was... not at my best.”
Uriel turns to look at me, his expression softening. “There’s no need to apologize, Emilia. You did nothing wrong.”
The use of my first name sends an unexpected thrill through me. “Still,” I persist, “I’m not usually so... forward. Or clumsy. Or, well, drunk.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “I assure you, I’ve seen far worse behavior in my time. You were... charming.”
Charming? Me? I feel heat rising to my cheeks and quickly look away, focusing on the rain-blurred landscape outside.
“So,” I say, desperate to change the subject, “what does an archangel do for fun when he’s not saving the world or running hospitals?”
