Interlude: Meetings

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These are the first two times Lev n Fax meet. Their first meeting was originally a fill of a prompt on tumblr!

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He was one of those boys who subsisted solely on cigarette smoke and shattered dreams. That hadn't been the plan, but the world around him was callous and unforgiving. Dreams didn't last long in hell, although they weren't exactly scorned. They simply didn't thrive down there. Fax lived with this, letting those dreams grow and reach and, eventually, over extend and shatter. They kept him going, even the shattered ones, because for all they were broken, they still held hope. It worked out well enough, even if it left him feeling hollow. That was okay, too, though. The smoke filled the empty spaces, wreathing through his ribs, curling around his heart, clinging to his hair.

Even when he left, seeking the sunlight on earth, the smoke followed. It stuck to him, crawling along his skin, permeating his clothes. Fitting, really, as a being of fire who refused to combust.

And the dreams? Well, they never really got restored to their former glory, though the pieces were there, gathering dust. He was okay with that, though. He had made his peace with the faded grayscale that was his life. It had a certain aesthetic to it, like it matched the smoke that had become a part of him.

Living in earth was everything he could ask for. As a relatively powerful demon, he could look very human when he wanted. He passed, and he found that settling into a job, a house, a life, was easy. It was comfortable, and lazy, and he found, for the first time in a long time, that he was content. Grayscale or not, this was his life, and he had built it. It was comforting, to have somewhere to go home to, a porch to sit on and watch the sunrise, a garden to plant flowers and vegetables and whatever else he felt like. And, well, when a sleek grey cat decided that his porch was his, and then later, his house too, Fax couldn't say no. The cat fit, anyway, as grey as the rest of his life, and comforting in that regard. Only, one day, there wasn't one cat, but two, a silver tabby with flat blue eyes. By the next month, he was up to four. Well, he reflected, as long as they don't trample his garden he didn't mind, not really. Besides. They liked to sleep around him when he crashed on the couch, and it was hard to feel anything but comfortable when he had four purring beasts surrounding him.

He had been on earth for many years the day he was finally discovered by an angel. It was his own lax guard that let the angel find him at the supermarket one day. He should have been more attune to his surroundings, but he'd been too wrapped up in the many cans of cat food he was juggling (he was up to seven cats, though he didn't remember inviting any of them.) He'd only noticed when he felt a pair of eyes on his back as he went looking for his car. When he'd turned to see who was watching, all he'd caught was a glimpse of pearl grey wings, and dark hair.

The hard thump of the cans swinging into his leg in their bag reminded him he needed to go. He cast several glances over his shoulder as he set the bag in the passenger seat, but nothing was out of the ordinary anymore. Right. He let out a breath, and headed home. The cats seemed delighted to see him, but that might just be because he promptly fed them.

When he stepped out onto the porch later that night, the sky was covered with clouds, not a star in sight, and too thick for even the moon to shine through. The air was heavy, promising a storm, and somehow, that stirred the dust covered dreams in his chest. He knew better than to let that last, though, and instead pulled out a cigarette. He didn't need a lighter, and soon the smell of smoke wreathed the air. Better, he thought, letting the smoke settle in his lungs, press against his his ribs, and slither through the air around him when he expelled it. The smoke was a part of him now as much as the aching, dusty hope, and he felt better for being surrounded by it.

It was another week before he saw the angel again. Fax was working in his garden, a particularly chubby tabby curled beside him. This time the angel was easy to spot. Mostly because he was lurking at the edges of Fax's yard, frowning in Fax's direction. Fax stilled. He took the chance to take in details while the angel approached. Short dark hair that was cropped almost severely short, and dark smudges under what had to be the brightest gold eyes Fax had ever seen. The grey wings were almost murky, as if wreathed in shadow, letting Fax know that they wouldn't be visible to human eye.

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