Loving Lucifer Special - Belial Corrupted

Belial Corrupted

The angel Belial let out a peaceful sigh; finally, everything was the way it was meant to be.  He put down his paintbrush and stepped back, admiring his work. He had managed to capture the light in the Creator's eyes.

"Belial!"

Belial's mouth split into a grin. He couldn't wait to show his latest piece to his brother.

"Beelzebub! Where have you been? You were already gone when I rose from my bed this morning."

"Forgive me, little one."

"Beelzebub! You know I do not particularly like it when you call me that. We were born under the same star. If I am little, then so are you."

"Forgive me, brother. I say it in jest."

Beelzebub reached across and ruffled his brother's long hair. Standing much taller than Belial, he glanced down into the other angel's eyes. Brown met brown, delight met delight. There was nothing in angel or human realm alike that could ever tear these two angels apart.

"Pray, will you now tell me where it is you have been all morning?"

"I will, but I see there is something you have yet to show me."

"Ah, yes."

Belial stepped aside, his eyes a wide, bright pool of excitement. He lived for his brother's praise, but there was no praise to be had this morning. Beelzebub frowned and turned away from the painting, leaving Belial in a mist of confusion and worry.

"Brother, pray tell me, what is the matter? Do you not like it? Have I not honoured our Sweet Mother?"

When Beelzebub turned his head back to look at his brother, his eyes were once again bright, but the emotion that now coloured them walked along the lines of fury rather than the unadulterated pride and joy Belial was accustomed to.

"It is precisely that, Belial. You honour the Creator far too much. You are a fool, little brother!"

"Beelzebub!" Belial gasped, uncertain as to what had taken over his brother's disposition. He knew that, like himself, Beelzebub was prone to mischief, but never had he heard such foulness escaping his brother's lips.

"Very well, very well. I will cease from calling you little brother."

"That is not what vexes me, brother. Call me little and small. Call me short and stunted. Call me what you may, but I implore you, dear brother – never let such filth escape your lips again. I have forgiving ears, because I love you above all others, and I would forgive you should you murder me in my sleep. But others would not take too kindly to these words."

Beelzebub shook his head and let out a laugh coloured with amusement. He pulled a chair out from underneath the table at which he and his brother shared their meals and most of their conversations. Turning it around to face his brother, he sat, crossing one leg over the other with an amused smile on his mouth.

Belial studied his brother, unable to understand him for the very first time. He had always admired Beelzebub, who stood tall and wide, whose chest was mighty and large after days upon days of training to better protect the beautiful and most beloved Creator whom they all called Mother. Beelzebub now sat there, his legs nonchalantly crossed, his short brown hair as neat and unperturbed as ever and his brown eyes dancing with mischief. His commanding stature and the certainty in his handsome face made Belial feel smaller than ever.

Seldom had two brothers been as different as the two angels presently gazing at one another with not a word passing between them. Belial stood much shorter and narrower than the angel who had shared the star that birthed him. His face was closer to pretty than handsome, with soft rounded features and pink feminine lips, his long hair messy and tied back after a morning of painting. His fingers were as rough as his brother's, but from paint instead of weapons, and his bare feet were soft from spending his days inside rather than on the grass and cobblestones.