Only Angel 2 [h.s] AU

If you want me

Beau's POV

I woke up with my cheek pressed to leather.

The texture stuck to my skin when I moved, warm and slightly damp — like I'd been sweating through a fever. I blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling above me, white and high, traced with faint shadows from the blinds. My head throbbed, my throat was dry, and the taste in my mouth was—

God, what was that taste?

Like metal and sugar and something too sharp to name.

I sat up too fast.

The room spun.

The couch beneath me was massive — long enough to sleep on, clearly expensive, and definitely not mine. I looked around. Floor-to-ceiling windows. The skyline outside wasn't New York.

It wasn't even close.

Panic shot up my spine.

A taunting snort. "Nightmare?"

A voice behind me.

I twisted, nearly falling off the damn couch.

There was a guy leaning against the kitchen island, barefoot, shirtless, smoking a joint like this was the most casual Sunday morning in the world. He had tattoos creeping up his ribs and a look in his eye that made me immediately want to run.

"Who the fuck are you?" My voice was hoarse, barely coming out. "Where am I?"

He didn't even flinch.

"Elija," he said, like that meant anything to me.  He took a lazy drag from his joint, then cocked his head. "Who the fuck are you?"

I blinked at him, still piecing things together. "Beau."

He exhaled smoke through his nose, like I'd told him the weather. "Beau," he repeated, dragging it out like he was testing the syllables. "That short for something, or did your parents just give up halfway through naming you?"

I blinked again. "What?"

He grinned, full of amusement at my confusion. "Beau. Sounds like a name you'd give a golden retriever."

I rubbed my temples. "Jesus Christ."

"Oh no," he said, smoke trailing from his mouth. "Pretty sure he left the building about twenty minutes ago when you started mumbling in your sleep."

I narrowed my eyes. "Who the hell are you? And where am I?" I ask again.

Elija took another slow drag, like I'd just asked him what two plus two was. He walked to the window, peeking through the blinds with that same maddening smirk.

"You ever see The Matrix?" he said, tapping the glass. Before I could ask him what the fuck he was talking about, the front door swung open.

And in walked the last person I ever expected to see.

Harry.

He looked like sin and stress incarnate — all black coat, jaw set in steel, eyes scanning the room until they landed on me... and then flicked to Elija.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Harry said, voice low and sharp.

Elija didn't even flinch. Just took another drag of his joint. "Breakfast."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Put it out."

Elija sighed like he was the one being inconvenienced. "Jesus, alright," he muttered, strolling toward the kitchen sink, tapping ash into an espresso cup on the way.

Harry ignored him. His attention was back on me now, eyes raking down like he wasn't sure what he was seeing. Like he couldn't decide if I looked like relief or regret.