Fallen

A Visitor

    He caught a wisp of gold and tucked it behind her ear and then drew his fingers along her jaw. Her head lied in his lap as he sat with his back to the headboard. She looked so peaceful, her small hands clutching onto the blanket draped over her shoulders. He wanted to stop himself, yet he couldn't get enough of her warmth or the softness of her hair. It was like silk as it slipped through his fingers over and over again. He traced her features, her eyes, her cheeks, and her lips with his thumb. Her lips were soft beneath the padding of his thumb and suddenly last night was replaying once again in his head.

    He shut his eyes, willing himself to forget how it made him feel. For the first time in his existence, he felt alive. He couldn't remember what he thought when he found her in his room. He just remembered her touch, her lips, her moans...

    His eyes snapped open as he drew in a deep breath to wash away the memory. The cold breath that washed through his lungs seemed to waken him from his day dream. She was an Angel, even if only half. He was a monster to the heavenly world his father had created. How could she sleep so peacefully within his arms? Could she not sense what he truly was underneath the Human facade he wore for her? Did she not see the Devils face when she looked at him?

    Grudgingly, he slipped out from beneath her and lied her gently on a pillow. Even if he was the Devil, he couldn't help but take one last glance at her before he left her in his bed. Her hair washed out over the pillow like a halo, the white sheets tangled around her like a white gown. Her skin glowed, even in sleep... even if faint. She was radiant.

    Whether she knew it or not she was his little angel now, he thought as he shrugged on a buttoned up shirt and pulled on a fresh pair of pressed trousers. A pet maybe. He chuckled as he shut the door after him and adjusted his tie. A pet? That would be ridiculous. She was more like his own little dirty secret.

    His lips twitched into a crooked grin as he jogged down the staircase and into the lobby. She was hardly a dirty secret, more like his own little slice of Heaven. He felt like a fool for grinning so widely as he shoved open the great doors separating his home from Hell itself.

    "Hello, Lucifer."

    Lucifer froze and his good spirits suddenly came crashing down at his feet, arms yet outstretched in midair in shock.

    "Gabriel?"

    The Angel stood before him with his hands clasped in front of him, his piercing blue eyes boring into the Devil's almost smugly. His hair was almost as golden as Ciela's, yet it could not do her radiant curls justice as it was pulled into a loose plait at the nape of his neck. She had none of her fathers sharp, rugged, and squared features. If it weren't for the hair, he wouldn't have drawn a family connection at all. Causally, Gabriel strolled passed Lucifer and glanced around dark room with a faint air of discomfort.

    "Sure, just let yourself in." Lucifer grumbled as he shut the doors after Gabriel, suddenly miffed. "Would you like me to take your cloak? Rub your feet? Better yet," Lucifer met his gaze with a snarl, "maybe you'd like a d**k shoved up that holy virgin ass of yours?"

    Gabriel narrowed his eyes on him as he tugged his white cloak around his broad shoulders. He towered a foot taller than Lucifer, brawnier and built for war as a golden sword gleamed hidden at his hip. Lucifer wasn't about to fight an Angel, even if in his own domain.

    "Same old Lucifer."

    "The one and only." Lucifer bowed mockingly, a sneer on his face. "What could the gatekeeper of the underworld do for such a holy visitor? But don't get too close, Gabby. Don't want you catching a case of Fallen Angel, would you?"

    "I don't have time for your little grudge against God. I have other matters to discuss with you." Gabriel scanned the dark abyss surrounding them, eyes constantly watchful of the shadows dancing beneath the red torches just within sight. "Have you seen an Angel? A rouge Angel, perhaps?"

    Lucifer's brows lifted to feign surprise.

    "Ah, another Fallen? Has another Angel broken one of dear old fathers rules? What a pity-"

    "Actually," he turned his attention back to Lucifer. "A little lost soul named Ciela has wandered too far. I have tracked her as far as Earth before her little light trace vanished suddenly. You wouldn't happen to have seen her?"

    Lucifer's mouth snapped shut just as he caught a faint glow standing behind Gabriel at the top of the staircase. His eyes flickered towards her ashen-face briefly before returning to her fathers with a smirk.

    "Does old Gabby need the big bad Devil's help?"

    "Hardly." Gabriel jutted out his chin stubbornly and touched the hilt of his sword. "I just know your whereabouts last night were close to Ciela's before she disappeared."

    "Such trouble for one little Angel, hmm?" Lucifer crept towards Gabriel, a wicked grin pulling onto his lips. "Is she a looker? Do you have a little crush on the little thing?"

    All at once disgust and hatred fluttered over Gabriel's features as his fingers tightened dangerously around the hilt of his sword.

    "I would never disobey God. I am only doing as God bids. If it were up to me I'd be happy to rid myself of that little brat. Such a devilish little minx. I don't see what God sees in her."

    Lucifer hardly caught a glimpse of Ciela before she suddenly turned on her heel and ran into the darkness with her golden hair whipping behind her. He turned back to the Angel, a snarl curling his lips back over his ridged teeth.

    "I'm afraid I haven't seen her. Now, if you don't mind, Gabby." Lucifer swept his arm towards the large doors and they swung open with an ominous groan. "I have Hell to run."

    Gabriel lifted his chin as he strolled passed Lucifer, casting him a smug glance.

    "Tired of seeing the Devil's face every day?"

    Hatred erupted within Lucifer as he let slip a feral growl and his eyes flashed red just as massive white wings sprung from Gabriel's shoulder blades. With one last chuckle, he sprung from the Devil's doorstep as Lucifer yanked his doors shut and glowered where the Angel had once stood. What an asshole.

    Ciela.

    His eyes floated towards the hidden staircase as his anger slipped into worry. She'd heard her fathers words. He suddenly knew how she felt as he hurried towards the staircase. Rejection from your own father hurts like a b***h. Even if he never got along with his father, the day he'd cast him out still rang fresher than ever. He had only one guess of where she could be within the confines of his home. He doubted she'd be as adventurous in such a devastated state.

    He gently pushed open his bedroom door to find a white crumpled form huddled partially hidden out of sight behind a sofa angled away from the door. Her wings gave her away as they stuck out and draped across one of the arms of the sofa. Soft little hiccups made his stomach give a painful twist as he slowly approached her. Her chemise was torn from her wings, but she seemed to hardly care as she cradled her face in her arms. Her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them and her face buried from view, she looked so helpless. His heart ached.

    "Ciela? Are you alright?"

    She let out a little gasp of surprise, her body tensing as her wings coiled around herself protectively.

    "I'm sorry, Gabriel. I won't do it again. Please, I-"

    "He left, little Angel."

    Her head lifted quickly, her eyes wide as golden tears rolled down her pale cheeks. Her eyes searched his and then searched the room.

    "I wouldn't lie to you, Ciela." Lucifer said in earnest. "I wouldn't."

     Suddenly the little Angel was on her feet and threw herself at him. She clutched onto his waist so tightly, he winced and was partially surprised at her strength as she buried her face into his chest. He grimaced as the tears seared his skin through his shirt, but he couldn't bring himself to push her away when she looked so broken.

    He hesitated, he never was good at comforting people. It wasn't his nature. He was a torturer. He was the bringer of pleasure. This was the second time he found himself wishing he could do more than hold her. What more could he do? He slowly wrapped his arms around her, placing a hand on the back of her head to cradle her to his chest.

    "Hush now, little Angel." Lucifer whispered, his throat felt swollen as she sobbed into his chest. "Angel's shouldn't cry. Please, stop now."

    Her arms tightened, tiny hands fisting the fabric in her grasp as she sobbed harder to the point her cries broke and turned into short blubbered outbursts of jumbled words he couldn't understand. What should he do? Should he be stroking her hair as he was now? Should he be holding her as if she were fragile? She was fragile just then. He felt as if one breath would break her into tiny little glass shards at his feet.

    He knew she was better than him. He knew this was all wrong. He knew it was morally impossible for him to feel this way. Yet, he couldn't help himself as he rocked her in his embrace without question. How could the "Devil" care for someone like her? It wasn't possible. Yet, as she cried in his arms, he couldn't help but hold her silently and stare down at her in utter amazement. What was this? Why, even as her tears burn his flesh, is he comfortable holding her as she cries? Why does this feel right? Why does he relish the feeling of her trusting embrace? This wasn't s*x. How could he find pleasure in merely holding a fragile creature such as she? How could he find pleasure in looking at her in his arms? How could he find pleasure just looking down at her beautiful form?

    Wasn't pleasure something else? Wasn't it made of s*x and thrill? Why was this different? Why did it feel better than a one nightstand? Why did he want more moments like this?

    He lifted her off her feet and lowered them into the sofa. He cradled her in his arms like a child, stroking her golden hair as her tears continued to roll down his chest. It felt like fingernails digging into his flesh in the most unpleasant way.

    "You are nothing like your father says." Lucifer murmured, stroking her cheek and watching the flesh of his thumb pucker and breakout out into a patch of raw and blistered skin. "Don't listen to him, little Angel. Please, dry those tears. He isn't worth your sorrow. Please..."

    Her lashes were heavy with golden droplets as her emerald eyes slowly lifted to meet his dark gaze. Her lower lip trembled as he brushed her tears away careless of the pain. The swelling within his throat grew as he swept away the constant swelling of her tears.

    "Wh-why are you crying?"

    Lucifer... crying?

    His brows knit in confusion as she lifted a white trembling hand to stroke his cheek. He found himself leaning into her touch and closing his eyes as something cold rolled down his cheek.

    "I don't know." He chuckled huskily, clearing his throat as he opened his eyes to look down at her.

    Her lower lip trembled as she watched the trail on his cheek.

    "Does my tears burn you like yours do to me?"

    He quickly caught her hand and looked down at the red flesh. He shrugged his shoulder to wipe his cheek and looked down at her as he brushed his lips against the puckered flesh.

    "Yes, please don't hurt yourself."

    "But you're hurting yourself."

    He felt his lips twitch into a grin as he wiped a tear from her cheek once again. This only seemed to make her lower lip tremble more, her eyes swelling with more tears. He didn't know why he did it. Nor could he remember why he suddenly had the urge. He cradled her chin in his palm and kissed her trembling lips gently. She let out a feeble whimper, her breath catching in her throat and stuttering out as he did this more than five times.

    When he pulled back, he felt weak, even though his body was stronger than ever. He still held her firmly to himself, yet he felt weak as her hands clutched onto the front of his shirt. He didn't dislike the feeling, but it was uncomfortable to feel vulnerable within her gaze.

    "I'm used to pain." He realized aloud as he wiped away another unshed tear. "I'm used to pain."

    Her brows knit as she looked up at him, her eyes darting back and forth as if searching for something. He didn't want her to ask. He didn't even truly know why he had said it aloud. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. The swelling in his throat was unbearable as he pulled the blankets over her torso and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

    "Stop crying." She whispered.

    He caught her hand before she could sweep away the traitorous tear racing down his cheek. He didn't know why, but suddenly he couldn't meet her gaze again once he looked away. Swallowing harshly, hoping to rid the lump in his throat, he released her hand and stepped out of reach.

    "I have to go." He had to clear his throat again. "Rest, little Angel. I have to check on a few... things. I'll be back when I've finished."

    He suddenly felt guilty for his occupation. He didn't want to say he was checking up on his Demons or the torture rooms he'd built personally for each soul sent to him. He couldn't bring himself to look at her again either. He heard her release a strangled gasp as he turned to leave. His eyes caught his reflection on the marbled flooring as he pulled open the door. There stood the Devil in a dress shirt and a pair of pressed trousers. A layer of red scales and a pair of embers for eyes. He couldn't help the pain that shot through his chest as her gasp echoed over and over in his head as he stalked down the stairs once again. He could only imagine the horror that might have washed over her beautiful face as he left his home and walked the crumbling path.

    Why did it hurt? Why did he care?

    Slowly fingers curled around his just as he reached the first stone wall dividing the torture rooms from the rest of Hell. He looked down into a pair of ember eyes and a face just as scaly as his.