Clariana
The smell of something sweet and yummy was wafting into my room, and my eyes jolted open. My body lifted up from the bed as if it were a zombie, possessed. I quickly followed my nose and stopped. Stared.
Azazel was in a pair of black sweat pants, shirtless, his sleek, toned torso rippling with muscles like water, a body built for fighting. And he was cooking!
Azazel startled as he caught me staring, then smiled. "Goodmorning, dove." he said simply, walking towards me with a steaming plate of pancakes and melting butter. He planted a kiss on the top of my head, then set the plate down in the middle of the table. He reached over and poured syrup on top of the pancakes, and I watched as the thick, sticky liquid slowly oozed down the sides.
I gulped and tilted my head up to look at him. He was so close, and so tall... and so close... I could smell him. Clean and soapy, like he had just taken a shower, but a hint of burning ashes, too. The smell of hell.
That's what jolted me back to reality; remembering where I was, why I was here... I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I cleared my throat. "Good morning," I said in a squeak.
He smiled again and pulled out a chair, gesturing for me to sit. I did, and looked around, confused. What was happening? Where was everyone?
He took down a plate from the cabinet and set it down on the table in front of me, then placed a knife and fork. He then pulled out his own chair and sat down, putting his own plate and utensils in front of him.
And then silence. Uncomfortable silence. We sat there, blinking at each other. Pink crept across Azazel's face, and he cleared his throat.
"Um, I don't know how to do this, exactly. But I'm trying. I want to try. I need to learn how to be... a good man for you, Clariana. I need to learn to be deserving of you."
My mouth fell open, and I blushed too. "What is all this about?" I asked.
He looked uncomfortable, and stared down at his empty plate. I stared down at mine, and my ears began ringing with the silence. My face was hot.
"I want to do these things for you. Cook for you, take you on dates, you know... try to be as normal as possible. If that's even possible." he finally said.
"But why?" I looked up at him, and he was staring at me with confusion, like 'duh, you don't know?'
"Because I love you," he said simply.
I swallowed thickly and blushed, my face was so hot I was in danger of crying. "Thank you."
"Don't you love me too?" he asked, and he had a note of fear in his voice, like he was afraid that there was a possibility that I would say no.
"Of course," I said.
He hung his head, and his long dark hair flopped in front of his face. His eyes were downcast in disappointment. I gulped, and my chest burned. I didn't know what else to say. This was awkward.
The only sound from then on was the echoes of our silverware clinking against the glass plates.
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Nov. 1 10:46
For the rest of the day, I hid in my room, away from everyone, especially Azazel. After breakfast, it had remained awkward, and so I had silently crept back to my room. The pancakes were good, though! Before, I would've said it had compared to the warmth and sweetness of heaven, but if I truly cast my mind back to the days when I lived in heaven, I would remember that heaven was neither very warm nor sweet. It was just expected of me, as an angel, to speak highly of heaven.
