Morning Star

Duality: Part 4

Sandalphon

"And what may I do for you Metatron?"
Sandalphon's deep, rumbling drawl filled the office as he looked to his older brother, dark eyes smoothing into a blank facade. Best to be expressionless than being found with less than conventional intentions. But that's if his brother cared enough to search those fathomless gray depths. And with the way Metatron was swaying, bliss and a drunken light dancing in his red-rimmed eyes, it seemed highly unlikely that his brother would suspect a thing.
"Just checking in, dear brother. Lots of work and things and such to do." Sandalphon's gray eyes remained cool as he met Metatron's matching ones, trying to see if he could discern any of the anger that usually came with the taller angel's drunken moments; even when tipsy he was prone to being irritable. When he saw none of the usual signs that Metatron was going to snap, he relaxed; if only a bit, though.
"Work is going well, Metatron. Though shouldn't you be getting to your own work once the alcohol wears off?"
The dark-haired seraph was careful to keep any bitterness out of his voice, as even if he was well-matched against Metatron, he didn't want to start a fight between the two of them. Which, if he chose his words carefully, a fight would not come to pass. All he needed to do watch his tongue and tone of voice.
"Oh, work can wait. Especially when I have three lovely cherubim waiting for me back at home." Metatron's voice was tinged had a bit of pride tinged in it as he fixed the leather strap holding his golden-brown hair back; albeit it was a clumsy attempt to do so. It was a wonder that he hadn't poked an eye out while adjusting the formerly loose bond. It never had occurred to the man that he could shave, had it? Sandalphon had to hide his disgust at seeing his brother with thick stubble lining his jaw and unruly, messy hair that he just tied back instead of actually brushing it.
Why him? What had he done that the Reviser dislike so much that when the angels were formed from Their tears, that he'd been cursed with the laziness that couldn't be cured in his brother?
But Sandalphon just forced a smile--more like the baring of his teeth--and gave Metatron a practiced smile, one he'd been forced to learn and perfect for occasions such as this one. And one that he wasn't inclined to forget how to perform anytime soon; not when his brother continued to cavort around the way he was.
"Ah, yes. Cannot leave those three, lovely ladies waiting whilst you sleep off the alcohol and get some work done. How silly of me not to think of that." Sandalphon had to fight back a growl with those words, as his irritation with Metatron was great. But it was nothing compared to his frustration; though he did his best to hide that as well. The situation would only worsen if it were to slip its leash.

Metatron pursed his lips a bit as his gray eyes narrowed, the drunken haze causing his thoughts to go stagnant. And that is something Sandalphon was grateful for as it kept his brother from getting too suspicious about what Sandalphon was hinting at. But he'd still have to watch his words around the other seraph.

"Well, I'm heading home, brother. The cherubim are waiting."

And with that statement, Metatron finished fixing his hair and left the office, leaving Sandalphon alone to chew on his frustration. He was going to get Lumiel to help him with his work after this for sure. Even if he had to pry him away from Lucifer.