To Love a Celestial

Chapter Nine: I Like You in Lavender

Azrael sat on the edge of the bed with a cup of luke-warm tea that the innkeeper had made as soon as both tumbled into the inn. She stayed quiet while nursing the cup. Her emotions were still running wild. Anger mixed with sadness but also relief. It was all too much in that moment and Azrael felt as if she would implode in that tiny room.

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Across the room, Raden stood in front of the wall length mirror scrubbing the blood stains from his shirt. The bucket of water was stained with a pink tinge and the dirty rag along with it. He had been at it for quite some time with no real headway. Though, at this point, Raden was no longer trying to clean the stains. It was a lost cause really. No, he was doing his best to calm his anger. In reality, Raden had gone too far. He beat the man to an inch of his life and left him in a puddle of blood and broken pride.

Raden wouldn't admit this to anyone, but he was regretful of going so far this time.

"You'd be better off just buying new clothing." Azrael's soft voice shifted through the stuffy air. Raden peered through the mirror, stopping his assault on the stains. His eyes landed on hers. They were bloodshot from tears and her cheeks were quite puffy. Tear stains mixed with the blood splattered on her dress top. Her normally kept hair was in disarray across her shoulders, spilling into a heap by her waist.

Something deep within Raden shifted. His hands dropped to his side like rocks to the bottom of a river. In that moment, he felt helpless. Sure he was the best on the battlefield and pushed beyond the capability of even the best trained celestials. But this... this was uncharted territory for him.

Raden neglected the poor excuse of a rag and turned away from his reflection. He stood there for a moment taking in the situation. Something he never did. "My clothes will be fine." He took a breath. "Are you?"

"I know I don't like when my clothes get all dirty..." Azrael shifted uncomfortably on the bed. When she was nervous she always rambled.

"Azrael," Raden spoke softly.

Her knuckles turned white as her grasp against the cups tightened. "A fresh shirt would make you feel better." Fresh tears spilt over but Azrael was trying her damndest to keep her composer. It was failing miserably. "I... I know that a clean dress wil... will always make me feel better."

Raden crossed the room in three giant strides, kneeling before Azrael. He was careful not to touch her. Almost too afraid to do so. He rested each hand on either side of her feet. The wood rough against the palms of his hands but it was a matter for later. Raden tilted his head slightly trying to find her gaze. "Look at me." He spoke soft and light. His voice, no harsher than a spring breeze.

Azrael kept her head bowed, tears falling into her cup of tea. Carefully, Raden placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze. He took his thumb and wiped away a stray tear. She sat tense against his movement and he pulled back.

Raden stood and cleared his throat, shaking whatever strange feelings that had washed over him. He rubbed the back of his neck unsure of what to do now. "I'll... be downstairs."

"Wait."

The floor moaned under his shifting weight as Raden turned back to Azrael. She wiped away the tears with the hem of her dress as she finally lifted her gaze to Raden's. "Please stay."

"I don't think..."

"I don't want to be alone again."

There was a deeper meaning there and Raden knew it.

Raden swallowed his proud celestial ego and gave a curt nod. He stood at attention like so many times before as if waiting for orders that would never come. His eyes trained on Azrael ready for anything. Well almost.