The Love of Azazel

Chapter 8

The Kingdom of Hell
Raziel's POV

I was willing to admit that his words hurt me. I mean nothing to him? We'll never be friends again? What happened in our past that was so awful to him? We had always gotten along great. But, at least he acknowledged that he remembered, instead of pretending to forget.

Azazel left and I sighed, sitting down on the bed. It smelled like him, and it calmed me. I guess... We did have a bit of a falling out when I announced my marriage, but he was supportive of us the whole time. Of course, after a few years my wife began to cheat on me and even got pregnant with someone else's child, but... He was always there for me.

Still, I didn't think he'd end up a demon. He's always been so kind hearted. Naturally, I assumed he'd be an angel. That led to my next question. What had he done that had made his soul too impure for Heaven?

Laying down on the bed, I closed my eyes and scooted to the wall, leaving space for Azazel to lay. The curtains had been drawn, and a bright light had been placed on the ceiling as a knock off of the heavenly light. Even so, it was a nice gesture and helped me fall asleep.

---

I awoke to a warmth pressed against my back. Turning my head, I was met with a mess of silver-blonde hair. Azazel's eyes were closed, but I knew he was awake. Smiling, I sat up and yawned. Azazel, noticing that I was awake, sat up too. He watched me stretch curiously. "What's it like?" He asked.

I turned, confused. "What's what like?"

"Sleeping."

"Wouldn't you know? You were just sleeping, right?"

He shook his head. "It's not that we don't need sleep - even though we don't - it's more of a 'we are forever punished to stay awake.' I suppose they think keeping us from dreaming is a punishment. I mean it is, sometimes. It's been so long since I last needed to sleep, I've forgotten what it's like."

I'd never thought of it that way. I guess it might be a punishment. Never being able to dream about anything, or fall into a comfortable darkness and awake fresh and new. I felt bad for him.

When I turned back to him, his wistful look was gone, and he was back to his usual cold self. He left swiftly, not even bothering to change his clothes. Sighing, I got up as well. I long to see him smile again, to hear him laugh. But to do that, I have to find out what happened to us in the past that made him like this. Why did he end up in Hell, why did he want me out of his life?

Without the answers, I'll never get to see his happy face, and that's a problem. Seeing it when we were younger always made my heart flutter, and had me feeling just as happy as he was. It was my favorite part about his smile; it's contagiousness.

Nodding to myself, I made a promise. I will find a way to get back into his life. Well, afterlife.