The Lost Angel [BxB]

raphael

The very essence of romance is uncertainty.

'The Importance of Being Earnest'
[Oscar Wilde]

♡ ♡ ♡

11: RAPHAEL

Lalo woke up cold and alone, tangled in Rory's white sheets as the pale light filtered through the satin curtains. He cursed under his breath as the memories of the previous night came creeping back, panicking as he got up and put his slippers back on. He would have a lot of explaining to do, but Rory would understand, he had to. It was a bad dream, and he didn't want to be alone; that was only natural, that was human. Though recently, Lalo had been reevaluating whether he could even be considered a real person. He had rotted away to a pulsing consciousness of sin and regret.

He found Rory in the kitchen, busying himself over a frying pan of eggs, lacking a shirt. The taut muscles on his back that sat beneath clear soft skin, and the veins that ran up his arms, were almost mesmerising. Lalo could stare at the boy all day, and usually, he did. "Hey." He murmured in a surprisingly husky voice, presumably from the panic attack he had almost had last night, successfully exhausting his lungs.

Rory spun around, and his face fell into a smile, "Morning."

"What time is it?"

"Half nine."

Lalo's eyes widened in alarm, "Oh, fuck, I have to go."

Rory bolted across the room and blocked the doorway, eyes firm but comforting, "Hey, c'mon, Lalo, just relax."

Lalo shook his head furiously, "No, Rory, I'm late, I'm so fucking late." He ran his fingers through his hazelnut curls irritatedly, "I should've been awake at five to avoid the midday sun, and I haven't even been into town to do my shopping yet, and fuck, I was meant to trim the grass today and sow the seeds for the—"

"Hey, hey, hey." Rory placed his hands on Lalo's shoulders and traced shapes onto his skin with he tips of his fingers, "Just take the day. Please."

"I can't! I missed an entire day's work the other week to go to the coast."

Rory stared at him blankly for a moment, chewing on his lower lip, "I already did your shopping." He said quietly, "I cycled into the village while you were still sleeping, I got you everything that was on your list, including those books you wanted." He told him soothingly, "I'm sorry I didn't wake you up earlier, I just thought you needed the rest, and after last night and everything..."

"Fuck." Lalo rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He repeated. "I'm so sorry. I've just been stressed out recently. I-I know you're only trying to help."

Rory smiled down at him, "Just take today off, Lalo. I think you need it."

He contemplated it for a moment, and then nodded begrudgingly. His mind was all over the place. Maybe Rory was right — he needed a day to gather his thoughts, plus he was already ahead of schedule with the gardening. He could afford a break. "Okay." He sighed, looking over Rory's shoulder where a jug of lemonade sat on the counter — a recipe Lalo had shown him — and a pan of eggs sizzled and burnt. "Do you need any help?"

Rory shook his head, "I got this." He promised, "How about I meet you by Raphael?"

Lalo agreed, leaning up to give Rory a quick peck on the cheek, before heading for the door. He settled on the bench by the pond, where the angel's face peeked out from between the leaves, looking down at him with empty eyes. Carmelita trotted over a few moments later, curling up on his lap, purring dulcetly. Warmth and peace settled over him. The gentle sound of the clear water, his cat's soft silky coat of fur between his fingers, and the morning sun shining on his exposed skin. He was wearing checkered pyjama pants with a loose sweater that hung from his narrow shoulders and thin collarbones. Everything was just right, and when Rory appeared from the house — fully dressed by now — holding two plates and a handful of cutlery, everything was just perfect.