Gabriel

31. Free Falling

DOUCHEBAG WARNING: GABRIEL WAS A COMPLETE DîCK BEFORE MAE, AND WE ALL KNOW IT BUT STILL.... I WARNED YOU. HE'S A CLASS-A ASSHØLE IN THIS FLASHBACK.

ps. Short chapter, sorry (but will update this weekend)

     GABRIEL

     The moment we get up onto the roof (with little difficulty), Uriel breaks out the pot. Azrael silently tosses him a lighter and I just stand by idly as they talk.

     "Yeah, Cia's been a handful, not to mention the boys. God, those little shîts. They're digging her and she loves the attention and all, but it drives me wild", he says before lighting the joint and sticking it between his lips. Remiel chuckles lightly.

     "Brother, you have no idea how much worse it's going to get. Emma is fifteen and I'm already worried about her getting pregnant. Jesus Christ, I've been thinking about getting a shotgun to scare off the human boys", Remiel exclaims. Uriel's eyes widen and he looks absolutely terrified.

     "Well, I'm screwed", is all he says before deeply inhaling the smoke. He passes the pot to Michael, as we all stand in a circle. As smoke fills the air, so does silence.

     It's nice to get away from it all for a while. Part of me feels guilty leaving Maeve with the girls­­­–­and Jon–but I just couldn't stand the stares I was getting from various women, some past conquests and some I didn't recognize. I was thankful Mae didn't notice, or I would have deal with feeling extremely guilty over something that already caused a lot of self-hatred. If there were one thing I change in my life, it would be the women. I would go back to before I let myself fück anything with two legs and a boob job.

     "Azrael, when are you gonna find your mate; now that Gabe's found his you're the last one", Remiel says, breaking the silence. Azrael just scoffs and kicks the tiling below his feet, saying nothing.

     "Lay off, he's got plenty of time to find his mate", I speak up. I remember these events and fundraisers had been absolutely awful in the past; the only questions you got were "where's your mate?" and "I can't wait to meet the lucky girl". But I probably only made it worse by bringing women with me, like last year's fiasco. At east Azrael wasn't dumb enough to make the same mistake I did.

    "Gabe, why don't we get out of here, this is getting so boring", Jessie whined.

     "Awe, babe just a few more minute, then we can go", I returned sweetly. Inside I was absolutely disgusted, but she was a bit more perceptive than the previous girls, and I had to actually try to get between her legs. At first, the challenge was fun­– all the easy ones were getting boring– but she was starting to tire and I just want my apartment back to myself. I've spent a week with her already, which is longer than normal, but she was a little bit more interesting than the others; she could actually hold a conversation with someone without it being about shoes and makeup. Suddenly my mother approaches, with a smile on her face, but it falls a bit as she nears and notices Jessie.

     "Gabriel, darling. So glad you could make it", she says through one of her fake grins she uses around the women. I roll my eyes; I love my mom but she seems to think that I need to be the fücking Virgin Mary when I meet my mate.

     "And who's this lovely lady", she asks as the woman clung like a sloth by my side.

     "I'm Gabriel's mate, it's so nice to finally meet you Mrs. Montero", she exclaims as I open my mouth to answer. My eyes go wide, and my mouth hangs open.

     This bîtch, is all I can think. God, we've messed around for a week and she already lying right next talking about all that mate crap.

     "No you're not", I splutter. My mother's eyes go between the two of us, but the only thing I can focus on is the sudden anger I have towards her. Who the fück does she think she is? I had deemed her a pack whøre, and by the things she knew in bed, my assumptions had probably been correct, but honestly? Claiming you're someone's mate is outright lying, and doing so in front of my mother and myself? You must have a death wish.

     "I am not your mate. You got that?" I repeat as my grip on her arm tightens. Her eyes widen, but surprisingly she does not back down, like she should. She only glares at me.

     "Who the fück do you think you are? I came to your place and we've been fücking for a week, and then you invite me to meet your parents; what else am I supposed to think, you sleazy dirtbag!" She says, her voice rising louder and louder until she's yelling out insults. My mother stands horrified as Jessica catches the attention of the other guests around her. She has angry tears flowing down her cheeks, and one realizing the scene she's made, just shrieks and storms out, almost tripping over her own stilettos in the process. I would laugh if it weren't for the current situation.

      My mother's embarrassment is palpable and only my fathers reassuring arm on her shoulder once he walks over encourages her. Calming down slightly, she speaks in a low voice.

     "Don't ever bring any woman with you again to a family event such as this unless she is your mate, or your ƒücking fairy godmother because I swear to god you'll need one after tonight. I'm cutting you off. No trust fund. No expensive trips. No nothing. Reevaluate yourself, son."

     I stand, motionless, as she stormed away with my father in tow, only throwing a disappointed look back in my direction. I soon walk off, finding Jessica on the front stepps of the building, with wet mascara rolling down her face.

     She looks ugly, but maybe they all do. Now matter how pretty they are, they're all just not her, I still can't possible admit that I'm holding out for "the one" to patch me back together.

     But even as she still has a running nose and messy hair, I apologize, and we go back to her place to ƒück. I leave the next morning to never see her again.

     I don't know why.

     Maybe I feel empty.

     Although, at the time, I had no idea how empty I was without her. Maeve makes me warm inside, in these dark places I thought no one would ever reach. She's never fake, and her tears are the most authentic thing there is. Her smile is fleeting but hopeful, and her eyes, her eyes, they captivate me, because although they hold a certain amount of brokenness from everything that she's seen and done, the love and compassion burns like never before.

     Maybe I ignited it.

     That hopeful thought motivates me to stretch out my wings and fly into the night sky with the rest of my brothers, above the clouds as we shriek and howl, the energy bursting through our veins. The adrenalin at being hundreds of feet above the ground does something to me as I watch the flickering city from below me grow smaller and smaller. The wind flows through my hair and the clouds make my clothes damp, but all I can feel is the freedom of nothing holding me down. It quickly fades, though, as I fall behind and the adrenalin is replaced with heat.

     And before I can comprehend, I'm falling with a fire in my veins and an ache in my soul.