Page 30 of The Nephilim's Touch
Gabe lifts a hand to stop me. “It’s not your fault. It wasmyunwise decision to use magic when I wasn’t properly prepared to.”
“Everyone always blames me for everything.” My shoulders drop and I slide down the wall to join him.
“I won’t.” Gabe leans his head on my shoulder and sighs.
“I’m just used to it.” I press a kiss to his temple when I slide him off me so I can grab him a cup of water.
I don’t know why I kissed him, but it felt right. He feels right when he’s next to me. Keeps me calm, like my brain isn’t running a thousand miles in a second.
When I reach the kitchen, I rummage through the cabinets for the cups. The cup I grab has a cute deer drawing and I take it with me back to the bathroom where Gabe is again in the toilet. I fill the cup with tap water and leave him to find the washrags. He really shouldn’t go into work like this, but I’m going to trust him to know himself. I rinse the washrag with cool water and dab as his forehead and neck while he slowly drinks down the water.
“Thanks,” he says weakly when he sets his cup on the floor.
“Are you sure you should go in tonight?”
He nods as he shuts his eyes and leans his head back. “Won’t take long to feel better. Promise.”
We sit like this, with me filling up his cup every twenty minutes or so, for about an hour and a half before he finally starts to feel better.. He doesn’t talk much and I don’t blame him. His throat is probably raw from throwing up. Not to mention how achy his stomach muscles must be.
“Do you need pain meds?” I ask.
Gabe shakes his head. “They don’t work on me, not since the wings.” He rubs against the wall as if to scratch his back. “I feel better, though. A lot better. I think the worse of it has passed.” He reaches to put the cup on the countertop.
I help him to his feet, and he looks down, probably realizing he’s only in a pair of boxer briefs. They’re pink with white hearts and they’re so damn cute on him. The smallest smile lifts his lips when his eyes meet mine. His hair is a tangled mess. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, and tear tracks down his cheeks. His nose is runny. He looks like a complete wreck, but nothing can mar his beauty. He’s got it in spades, inside and out.
“Thanks for helping me feel better.” He squeezes my hand, and I want to melt. Want to be a better person. Want to worship at his feet. No one’s ever looked at me the way he does. No one. And I know in my heart he doesn’t need me. He’s strong. He’s better than I’ll ever be. “Van?” Concern wrinkles his brows. “What’s wrong?”
I bring his hand to my lips and kiss his knuckles. “Nothing. Just glad you’re feeling better. You should take a nap.”
“I think you’re right.” As if just mentioning sleep makes him more tired, he yawns.
I tuck him into bed and turn off the light. Leaving him takes so much effort, but I can’t loom over him if he’s going to sleep.
The living room seems like a safe place to stay out of his way before I remember I left all of Gabe’s clothes at the laundromat. I race to the little building to find someone had finished his laundry and folded it neatly in his hamper. I don’t know who to thank for it, but I’m grateful nonetheless. I trek back to his apartment and leave the hamper in the living room, so I don’t bother him.
“What to do.” I look around. I’m not sure how to help with his plants, and I figured it’s safer to not do anything than accidentally hurt them. The book he’d been reading lays forgotten on the couch. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind me learning a bit about nephilims myself.
I settle into the plush couch and crack open the book. But when I do, it’s empty. “What the hell?” I huff and turn a few pages. “Are you one of those annoying special books?”
A blue dot appears on the center of the page and fans out, bleeding everywhere until it fades back into the page to reveal words.
So You’re An Asshole And Want To Reform.
“Har har har. Hilarious,” I mumble. I’ve been an asshole out of necessity. Asserting myself means I’m not weak. I can’t show weakness orI’llget hurt. I don’t want to hurt. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Learning How To Live A Gentler Life.
“That sounds better.” My eyes flitter across the page as I read. “None of this sounds appealing,” I say after a few paragraphs.
Patience Is A Virtue.
“And I’m a fucking demon.” I snap the book closed. “Definitely a bad idea.”
The previously blank cover reads:You Can’t Blame Everything On You Being A Demon 101.
“Now you’re just trying to piss me off.” I push to my feet and pace. “What do you know? You’re a book!”
Created To Help Fools Discover Themselves.
