The Love of Azazel

Chapter 6

The Kingdom of Hell
Raziel's POV

I stared at the man in front of me, my heart racing as he spoke to Grim. Azazel... Was it really him? His shoulder length silver hair was different, but there was no denying those painfully familiar violet eyes.

"Excuse me?"

I snapped out of my daze, looking at Azazel. He looked annoyed, and I assumed he had asked me something. "Did... I'm sorry, I wasn't listening."

"... Well, for starters, anything you'd like to say on behalf of God or something you angels usually do?"

"Oh, right. On behalf of God, I want to thank you for allowing me to fight for the right of this soul's passage to Heaven."

The entire time I spoke, Azazel's lips moved and mockingly mouthed the words. Embarrassed, I felt my cheeks heat. "Now then," he said, completely uninterested. "Let us begin the arguing."

---

Several hours and many cups of 'coffee' later, we had finished the debate. Honestly, I didn't think Earth food or drinks would be something to fawn over. Apparently I was wrong. The demons seemed to have taken a liking to this 'coffee' thanks to their new Queen's brother.

Azazel stood, taking the soul from Grim and turning to leave. Grim had already disappeared, a trick he often uses, and left the two of us alone. Before Azazel could leave, I grabbed his hand. "Wait!"

He stiffened, turning to stare at my hand on his wrist. "What is it." It was more a statement than a question.

I swallowed. "Um... It's me... Raziel. Remember?"

His stood for a moment, his face void of emotion. "Sorry," he spoke in a monotone voice. "I don't associate myself with many angels."

"But, we were friends once!! Don't you remember? We were always together! You couldn't have forgotten me!"

His eyes flashed an unknown emotion, but it quickly went away. "Please release my arm."

My hopes dropped and I nodded, letting go of his wrist. He stared at it a second more before leaving. Was he the wrong person? No, definitely not. There was only one person I knew of that had those violet eyes. It was him.

But, why did he pretend not to know me? Did he really forget? Or did he not want to get involved with me? I clenched my fist. I can't have that. I won't let him go this time. Not after I just found him again.

---

"I'm glad you're staying for dinner, Raziel, but..." Micah trailed off, glancing at me.

"Hmm?"

"Well..." He blushed. "Maybe, give Azazel a little space?"

I glanced at Azazel, who was pressed up next to me as I again forcibly pushed my chair as close to his as possible. Lucifer had skipped this meal, claiming to have business elsewhere. Azazel ate calmly, completely unaffected by my closeness. "He doesn't seem to mind." I said.

"No, I do, but it seemed easier to let Micah talk than to tell you to move your pathetic face out of my food." Azazel said this as calmly as possible, his tone even with no hint of embarrassment.

I, however, took the insult with immense embarassment. Sorry face? Did he really not like how I looked? "You liked my face plenty before." I muttered, my whisper only loud enough for him to hear.

This got a reaction out of him, his face blushing and his eyes widening. Even so, I began to move my chair just as Azazel got up, marching off from the table. I sighed. Micah watched me curiously, and I turned to him. "Would you mind if I... Stayed in Hell a little longer?"