Reviving Rafael

Chapter One

Everything on Earth has a purpose.

Hannah was like a sister to Vita. The angel was her guardian. Her students gave her inspiration.

And Morte... Well, Morte annoyed the hell out of her.

He didn’t know what kind of plan God has laid for them. But he knew that He wasn’t going to send him back to hell. He didn’t know his purpose, to be honest, but he was sure about his mission: to protect her.

Now he floated in midair as he focused his deep chocolate brown eyes straight at her, gazing like she was a twinkling star above. She looked vulnerable, too soft as she sleeps, breakable like a thin glass everyone should handle with care. He could still see her white wings, the good grace marked by heaven continually emanating from her soul.

The wrath he felt for his brother Santy lurked beneath his toned chest, like a poison waiting to be spilled to invade his being. Morte tried to restrain it, seeking for reasons to keep it bounded. As long as Vita was alive, he could forget what his brother did to her.

But Morte wasn’t a dumb. He knew his father Lucifer would throw a war at him, he could feel his life walking on a thin line. One fucking wrong step and he’d vanish like a popped bubble. Maybe he wasn’t as strong as Lucifer, but Morte wouldn’t go down without putting a single fight.

Of that he was sure.

As hell.

Vita stirred and swiftly turned left, her hair covering her face like cobwebs. The steady rise and fall of her chest eased Morte, the rhythm of her heartbeat was like harmony in his ears. Slowly, as if almost too scared that she would sense him, he leaned closer and brushed her hair, clearing up her face.

“I’m sorry, Angel wings,” he murmured quietly. “I ruin everything. What do you expect, I’m a devil.”

He sighed shakily as the fright he was trying to contain inside wanting to explode. He didn’t know what she felt about him after what had happened. He wasn’t sure if she would still looked at him with understanding, if she’d willing to see through all the shits he had done.

Then her eyes popped open.

“You’re alive,” Vita muttered and sat up. There were no surprise and confusion in her reaction at the sight of the devil. Honestly speaking, she was expecting him to show up.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

She reached out but her hand just passed through him. She forgot that she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t feel his warmth. Knowing that she wasn’t mad at him or what, Morte leaned forward and closed his eyes, his perfect chiselled arms circling her waist. His massive black and white wings envelope them both, adding warmth, protectively covering them.

“I have a mission, you know,” said Vita after a while, her eyes closed. “To stop you.”

His brow arched. “Stop me?”

She nodded and inhaled, his scent lingering the air. “Stop you from doing bad. My mission is to stop the heir of Satan.”

Morte pulled out from the hug and looked at her. “What makes you think I am the heir of Lucifer?”

It was Vita’s time to raise her eyebrow. “You said he’s your father.”

“Yes, but I am not an only child, Angel wings. The one who possessed you, he’s my brother, the eldest.”

They both stared at each other.

“The mission wasn’t referring to you, then.” Her forehead wrinkled, too puzzled. She tried to rewind the conversation, remembering that the angel mentioned no names.

“Sleep, Vita,” he said as he took in her confused face. “I won’t let anything harm you from now on.”

****

Three weeks had passed since the doctors let Vita out of the hospital. Three weeks since she’d been possessed by a demon and cheated death the third time now. She knew everything will change.

South Marea High asked for her resignation letter. The town was casting her a look like she was a demon, a contagious evil that would harm them if they get too close. Hannah, on the other hand, didn’t give a damn. She took her in, deciding that Vita should stay with her for a while until the absurd murmurs deflated.

“You remember Niko, right?” Hannah motioned her hand toward her brother.

Vita smiled and waved her hand. The boy swallowed and forced himself a tug of smile. He looked nervous, cheeks reddening, and Morte could clearly hear the wild hammering of the boy’s heartbeat.

“She’ll be staying with us from now on, so be good to her,” Hannah said to her brother.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Niko!” Vita uttered, a beam on her face. “You’re all grown up now.”

A shy smile erupted on his lips.

Morte, who was standing behind Vita, pasted his bored eyes at the boy who obviously has a crush on his Angel wings. And he didn’t like it- at all.

Another day had passed and Morte was on the verge of flicking his hand and depress the boy so he would stop those stolen glances he threw at his Angel wings. But he knew he couldn’t, and deep down in him, he knew he wouldn’t.

“Good morning,” Niko greeted Vita. She strolled in the kitchen and found the boy cooking. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

She smiled brightly. “Thanks, but you don’t have to do that.”

Morte rolled his eyes, his body leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his shirtless defined chest.

“I know,” Niko replied with a small smile on his lips. “But I want to.”

“Let me help you, then,” she said.

Niko blocked her way, their bodies almost touch at his sudden move that rocketed Morte’s guard way up high the damn sky.

“You better back off, boy,” he hissed as he stood closer to them. Vita stepped back, creating distance and glanced at Morte, seeing his forehead wrinkled, brows drawn together.

Sensing the devil’s anger, she just offered a smile at Niko and made her way out the kitchen. Morte followed after glaring hard at the boy who couldn’t even see him. Right then, he wanted to do bad and terrorized the boy to death.

A voice inside whispered to him, reminding him of something.

“What’s wrong with you?” Vita asked, lips almost in straight line, tone low.

“What’s wrong is that boy has desires for you that I want to kill him for even thinking about it!”

Her eyes widened. “You’re absurd.”

“He’s a douche.”

“He’s just a boy, Morte,” she argued.

“He is. That doesn’t stop him being a douche.”

Vita shook her head and walked out.

He’d pissed her off. Every-damn-time.

“You’ll win her heart in no time, bastard,” Morte uttered to himself sarcastically. “Way to go.”