Page 21 of Uriel
Time loses all meaning as we struggle onwards. It could have been minutes or hours; I couldn’t say. All I know is the weight of Emilia in my arms, the burn in my legs as we climb ever upwards, and the relentless assault of the storm.
Finally, blessedly, the looming shape of the mansion comes into view. With renewed energy, we push forward, practically falling against the heavy oak door in our haste to reach shelter.
I gently set Emilia down, fumbling with the key, my usually steady hands shaking from cold and exertion. After what feels like an eternity, the lock clicks and we tumble inside.
The sudden absence of howling wind is almost deafening. We stand there in the foyer, dripping onto the marble floor, both panting heavily. Emilia’s hair is plastered to her face, my jacket hanging off her like a sodden second skin. I’m sure I look no better.
“Well,” Emilia says, a hint of her usual humor returning. “That was refreshing, wasn’t it?”
I’m about to respond when suddenly, with a fizzling sound, the lights go out. We’re plunged into near-total darkness, the only illumination coming from the occasional flash of lightning through the windows.
“Perfect,” I mutter. “Stay here. I’ll find some candles.”
I make my way carefully through the darkened house, relying more on memory than sight. In the parlor, I manage to get a fire started in the grand fireplace, its warm glow chasing away some of the gloom.
From a cabinet nearby, I retrieve an emergency kit—candles, matches, flashlights, and other essentials. I’ve always been one for preparation, a trait my brothers often tease me about. But in moments like these, it pays off.
When I return to the foyer, I find Emilia hasn’t moved. She’s shivering violently, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“We need to get out of these clothes,” I say, concern overriding any sense of impropriety. “Come on, we’ll find something for you in my closet.”
I lead her upstairs, the beam of the flashlight creating eerie shadows on the walls. In my bedroom, I rummage through drawers, searching for something that might fit her much smaller frame.
“Here,” I say, handing her a soft sweater and a pair of drawstring pants. “They’ll be too big, but they’re dry.”
Our eyes meet in the dim light, and suddenly I’m acutely aware of our proximity. Of the way her dress clings to her curves, how a droplet of water trails down her neck to disappear beneath her collar. Of how very alone we are in this vast, dark house.
Emilia takes a step closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “Uriel,” she breathes, and the sound of my name on her lips sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with the cold.
I don’t know who moves first. One moment we’re standing apart, the next my hands are cupping her face and her fingers are tangled in my damp shirt. Our lips meet in a kiss that’s equal parts desperation and desire, hot enough to chase away the chill that’s seeped into our bones.
For a blissful moment, I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her body pressed against mine. But then reality crashes back, and I jerk away as if burned.
“I... I apologize,” I stammer, taking a step back. “That was... incredibly inappropriate of me.”
Emilia stands there, lips slightly parted, confusion and hurt entwining in her eyes. “Uriel...”
But I’m already retreating, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. “You should change,” I say, not meeting her gaze. “I’ll... I’ll be downstairs.”
I flee the room before she can respond, my heart pounding in my chest. What have I done? How could I have let myself lose control like that?
As I hurry down the stairs, my mind is a tempest of conflicting emotions. Millennia of celestial discipline war against the sudden, overwhelming surge of mortal longing. The burden of being the Archangel of Chastity weighs heavily upon me, a constant reminder of the sacred oaths I’ve sworn. Yet, for the first time in eons, I find myself questioning the very foundations of my existence.
These... feelings for Emilia—they’re not just fleeting human desires. They’re a force of nature, as powerful and unstoppable as the storm raging outside. They threaten to upend everything I’ve ever known, everything I’ve ever been.
But perhaps most terrifying of all is the realization that a part of me welcomes this upheaval. A part of me yearns to cast aside the rigid constraints of duty and simply embrace the intoxicating warmth of human connection.
I pause on the landing, gripping the banister as if it could anchor me against the tide of change threatening to sweep me away. How can I reconcile the Uriel I’ve always been with the Uriel I’m becoming? And more importantly, do I even want to?
And yet, the memory of Emilia’s lips on mine lingers, a temptation I’m finding increasingly difficult to resist. The way she felt in my arms, the soft sound she made when I kissed her... it haunts me, calling to something deep within that I’ve long tried to ignore.
I pause at the bottom of the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall. The house is silent save for the muffled sound of rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. In this moment of solitude, I allow myself to confront the truth I’ve been avoiding.
I’m falling for Emilia Thornton.
The realization hits me with the force of a celestial revelation. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, and utterly, irrevocably true. But as quickly as the thought forms, dread follows in its wake.
I close my eyes, my mind reeling. It’s one thing to acknowledge these... feelings. To recognize the warmth that spreads through my chest when she smiles, the way my breath catches when she’s near. But to act on them? To take her as my wife, to... consummate such a union?
