Hellfire ✞ a.f.i.

13: guardian

Tiny broken parts of me,
Blistered, broken glass underneath my feet.
How was I supposed to know?
No man should reach for something he can't let go.

Greyhound; Ashton Irwin

    "Easy, Michael," Ashton chooses his words more carefully now than he has ever before, his eyes trained on the blue flames flickering across Michael's palm in the early morning sun, "let's discuss this like men."

Ashton's hands are raised, palms facing Michael in a defensive manner, the cigarette dangling delicately between his fingers. His wings remain protectively curled over his arms, ready to close if Michael were to make any sudden moves of attack.

"Is that what we are, Irwin? Men?" The Archangel takes a step towards the Exemplaris in a deliberately threatening fashion, his white wings extended laterally, showcasing his utter lack of concern, "You and I both know that isn't entirely accurate."

"We're focusing on technicalities, then?" Ashton raises a brow, not moving, holding steadfast in his usual voice, "Then, please, enlighten me on the details of exactly how the fuck you figured out that I am an Exemplaris. To my knowledge, that isn't information simply known to Archangels."

"I don't owe you any explanation," Michael growls, the flame growing hotter in his palm.

"I beg to differ on that one, Clifford," Ashton narrows his eyes, sneering at his garden's guardian with contempt, "You decided to fly your ass up here to my balcony and threaten me on, what seems to be, limited evidence. I will repeat myself only once: enlighten me."

Michael narrows his eyes in response, looking the black-winged demon up and down once. He ultimately decides to drop his offensive act, clenches his fist, effectively extinguishing the blue flames, for now.

"I have my ways of figuring things out, Irwin."

"Cut the bullshit," Ashton scoffs, rolling his eyes, "if you want information out of me, it is only fair. I have my theories, but I want to hear that dirty lying mouth of yours admit it."

Michael's eyes are pure emerald flames, the back of his neck positively blistering in pain as he meets the hazel-eyed demon's gaze.

"Do I have to spell out what I think? I am not very patient, so let me guess," The Exemplaris begins to relax, realizing he may have the upper hand after all, leaning against the balcony railing once again and bringing his cigarette to his lips once again, "I don't think you've always been part of the Heavenly Host."

Michael stiffens out of instinct, his upper lip curling in anger, the blue flames returning, though significantly smaller now.

"I think, if I am honest with you," the smoke curls around Ashton's face as he speaks, "you used to be just like me, weren't you?"