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View Full Version : (February '18) Prompt #2 - "It wasn't me!"



Kris
02-02-2018, 07:20 PM
February's 2nd prompt is "It wasn't me!"



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ArtisticVicu
03-02-2018, 10:23 PM
Michael was in a daze until his alarm went off. He blinked, finding himself staring down at the table, an empty mug nestled against his left palm, his right pressed against the right side of his brow supporting the weight of his head. He sat up, looking about as he tried to get himself back in the present.

Alarm. Right. The alarm he had set on his phone was going off. He stood up and put his mug in the sink before returning to the bedroom and crossing to his phone. He swiped at the screen, ending the alarm. He looked about feeling oddly off before he entered the bathroom. He had two hours before work and it would take him a half hour to get there. Best to shower and try to get moving now before he was rushing out of the door late.

The shower did nothing to help his mindset and he came out of the bathroom showered and dressed an hour later. Unperturbed by the lack of time, he went about making a quick meal as he turned the tv on.

The audio from some commercial filled the silence and he ignored it, letting it settle in as background noise as he worked. By the time he settled down, whatever show was playing on the air channel had returned and was introducing something that seemed vaguely important. He picked up the remote, munching on a bite with the intent to change the channel.

"And we are back with the live feed from the Fir Family press conference..."

Michael choked on the bite in his mouth. There, on the tv, was Mr. Tall, Black Coffee. His gaze snapped immediately to the description bar that appeared when they focused on the man that he had encountered twice.

Luciano Fir, Head of the Fir Family Corporations

Michael stared at the man's face as the cameras remained focused on him. It wasn’t till the view changed that he composed himself. He took a long pull from his glass, finding Mr. Tall, Black Coffee was the focus of the camera again.

He couldn’t pull himself away even long after the man had left the show changed to something else. There was no way that he had ended up interacting with a multi-billionaire on two separate occasions. He buried his free hand in his curls suddenly scared that this man was why he was on Earth. There was no other explanation, not when there was no such thing as coincidences.

A dark knot settled in the depths of his stomach. No, there was no way he could interact with that man and not break the one rule God had set upon the angels. His hand shook as he rubbed at his face; there was no way he could keep himself from going against God’s word either.

In the end, he ended up running as he shoved the rest of his food in his mouth before dashing out the door. Thankfully the traffic was forgiving and he made it to work on time.

"Glad you could make it, Engel," his gruff boss called out in the midst of the bustling kitchen. They were properly staffed today meaning there were three other bodies there beyond the head chef and Gruff Boss.

"Glad to be here," Michael replied, smiling. It felt fake on his face and he quickly shoved the thoughts about Luciano to the depths of his mind. He situated his mindset for work where he needed to be warm, welcoming, and happy. Or, well, less conflicted at least. He could wallow in “what if”s and existential crises later.

He stepped out from the back as he tied his apron around his waist, gaze sweeping over those already in the shop, not that he was looking for anyone specific. It was just a habit.

He blatantly ignored the toxic blend of relief and disappointment at not seeing Luciano in the shop. He simply chalked the churning in his stomach to having eaten too quickly.

A few people nearby suddenly became sullen. Michael noticed and quickly filled his aura with content, joy, and compassion to correct his mistake before binding his aura so deep down, it shouldn’t touch anyone again. He was grateful when he was put on drink duty. At least making drinks meant he couldn't pay attention to those that came in and get disappointed or relieved whenever it wasn’t Luciano.

"Tall, black coffee, please."

He gasped, fumbling with the coffee in his hand as it got beyond his control, and hissed when the coffee not only soaked through his apron and uniform burning his chest but scalded his hands as well. There was a chorus of his name being called by the other two staffers behind the counter and he offered them embarrassed, reassuring smiles as he sought out the gaze of the customer who's coffee he had just ruined. "I'm terribly sorry, Miss,” he urged. “I'll cover a size upgrade and any pastry or additional coffee you want."

The girl on the other side looked alarmed, one hand curled towards her lips as the other was outstretched towards him as if to offer any aid she could. She blinked before shaking her head. "It's fine.” She focused on him again and he realized he had most of the shop’s attention. “Are you alright, sir? That has to hurt."

He winced when a coworker dowsed his hand in an icy rag. He gave her a shaky smile. "I've had worse.” Thankfully his wince at the slip-up was covered by his coworker adding a new rag, the other already passed off. He quickly amended, “Comes with working with food."

She didn't look reassured.

Michael slipped around his coworkers, uttering apologies as he went into the restroom. It was the closest sink without being in the way and he didn't want the other staff members to get distracted or worry about him. The ice water made the scalded skin hurt worse but it would have to be fine. He couldn't risk healing the injury right away. It would draw too much attention. Too many people had seen him spill the coffee on himself.

Luciano had seen him spill the coffee.

He felt his face burn.

He hadn't even seen him come in and yet he knew that voice. Luciano had come back to the coffee shop and Michael had not only been hoping for him to show up, he had gone and fumbled with a very hot coffee just because the man had ordered a simple coffee.

He groaned. Why did he have to have a crush? Why couldn’t his life be so much simpler and he could just go about God’s plan without worrying about being kicked out of Heaven for the effort?

“You alright?”

Michael jumped. He whipped around as best he could while keeping his hands under the stream of icy water to find the man of his thoughts standing in the doorway with a slight frown on the sculpted face, concern in those nearly red eyes.

“Ah, yeah,” he replied, turning back to the sink to hide his cheeks turning red. “Sorry about the inconvenience. I do hope it did not interrupt your service too terribly much.”

“It did nothing of the sort.”

Michael shuddered, glancing up at the mirror to find Luciano was indeed very close to his back. The nearly red gaze caught his and Michael found it hard to break the eye contact even as he curled his hands into fists. “Are you sure you’re alright? It seemed that it had gotten on your front as well and the young lady had asked me to make sure that you were, indeed, alright.”

Michael broke the eye contact as he shook his head, a fond smile on his face. A part of him was calling Luciano a liar but that wasn’t something that needed to be addressed. “As very sweet as that is, it wasn’t her fault.”

“But it was mine.”

Michael tensed, swallowing thickly as he forced a laugh. “How could me being clumsy be your fault, Sir?” He met Luciano’s gaze again and attempted to keep his cracking mask from shattering. “It’s not like you reached over and knocked the coffee out of my hand.”

The man hummed but the expression the other was reading was hard for Michael to decipher; though, whether that was from it being a reflection or not was left to be decided.

The door opened again and Michael’s Gruff Boss entered, first aid kit in hand. Gruff Boss nodded to Luciano, asking, “You get compensated all right?”

Luciano nodded. “The young lady outside is holding what I received for me while I checked on him on her behalf.”

Again, Gruff Boss nodded. “Good.” His expression softened. “Thank you for caring for one of my staff. I’ll take it from here.”

Luciano nodded and caught Michael’s gaze in the mirror once more. “Make sure to remember to check your chest.”

Luciano stepped around Gruff Boss and exited the bathroom. Said Gruff Boss wrapped his hands and sent him home since Michael had refused to go to the hospital. The burns weren't bad enough for him to fret about the unnecessary expense. He entered his dark but warm apartment and kicked off his shoes as his hand found the light switch. It stung a bit, what with his hands quite raw underneath the bandages, but he wasn't about to heal them so quickly. It would raise too many questions.

“It would seem there’s a sodomite interfering with your life, Michael.”

Michael nearly jumped out of his skin and it took him a minute to process his younger Brother's words even as Jesus continued to speak with an amused expression, a mischievous glint in those devious eyes. “Such a pity you can’t heal your hands so quickly, Brother.”

He frowned, entering his home fully. "You should not judge others, Brother. God makes no mistakes. If a mortal feels for the same gender ends up in a healthy, loving relationship, we should not grievous them for what they cannot control nor condone them their happiness."

Jesus scoffed at his words but Michael didn’t care. What he was confused about, though, was, "Why use the term 'sodomite'?"

“You are too forgiving, Michael,” Jesus chastised.

Michael frowned. Where was Jesus go-

“If I’m not mistaken, you had been just as eager to forgive a certain Brother for his sins as well and even had the gall to look sad when he was kicked from Heaven.”

Michael tensed, stilling as he entered the living room. He set a hard, closed off gaze onto Jesus as he replied, "Was it not God who said mourn for those that cannot reach Heaven? To have compassion and forgiveness for others? Of course I wanted to forgive his sins. Lucifer had every right to another chance and of course I was sad when God made the final verdict. I was devastated! God sent one of His own from Heaven for all eternity and we were told to forget the sorrow of the act, that our own Brother deserved such a fate." He took a shaky breath before continuing softly, "That is beside the point, though. What does Lucifer have to do with my question you so graciously ignored?"

Jesus chuckled and Michael fought to keep from returning to his angel form in his living room. “Certainly you can figure that one out for yourself, Brother. After all, you are not the only one walking the mortal plains with plans set before you.” Jesus gave a nonchalant wave of his hand. “Though I’m certain the sodomite would have loved tending to you after your little fumble.”

It was like someone had poured ice into his veins and it made his brain short out for a moment. Wha-was Jesus insinuating what he thought he was? No. No, there was no way. If it were true, he would have already been confronted about it by now. There was no way, right?

The chuckle was beyond his lips before he could even think to stop it. It was rather humorless. “Are you trying to use Lucifer as a sort of jab at my bleeding heart, Brother?” Michael asked, shoving the conspiracy theory to the back of his mind. “You and I both know that it won’t work so why use Lucifer at all?”

The look he was given left Michael feeling very exposed. He clenched his hands into fists trying to keep them from trembling. “Because you are hiding something, Michael. Something that you shouldn’t be keeping hidden. And if the best way to break you is through your bleeding heart, then I’m going to exploit that.”

The fear was well founded but he hid it well as disbelief colored his words. "Hiding something? You and those Above think I'm hiding something?"

If it weren't for the fact that he really was hiding something, he would have normally found the whole situation ridiculous. Those Above could see far more than those on Earth, including those that were among Man. As it were, he wasn't about to inform Jesus of his thoughts that go again the one rule God had placed over them.

Jesus either didn't buy it or didn't care enough to push it. "Regardless of how much you want to deny it, you will slip up, Michael, and I'll gladly take you to Heaven only to watch Father kick you out like he did Lucifer."

And just as he had appeared, Jesus was gone in an instant.

Michael wasn't prone to drinking but after that particular visit from Jesus, he found the strongest liquor he owned and threw back a tumbler full before pouring himself another glass of the amber liquid and plopping into a table chair.

He buried his free hand into his curls, his thoughts now consumed - whether by Jesus's design or happenstance - by Lucifer. More specifically, the night before Lucifer's banishment, the same night he had last interacted with him.

The moon was full and high in the sky, casting Heaven and Earth in its soft light. The air had been warm most had been asleep for hours but Michael had found himself awake and unable to return to the sleep so many were enjoying, alone in one of the more isolated locations of Heaven till movement drew his gaze.

He frowned as he took in the form approaching. Their head was down and their wings limply folded but even then he could tell it was one of his Brother's awake as he was.

"Lucifer?" he asked the night hopefully. Would his hope be misguided?

His Brother's head came up and, for a brief moment, Michael thought he had guessed wrong, But then his Brother was tucking his wings closer behind himself as he stood taller. Michael relaxed, smiling gently. Even in the half shadows his Brother was walking through, he recognized that stance.

"Michael," Lucifer greeted, voice holding a bit of disbelief as the other came to a stop just outside the moon lit area that Michael stood in. "What are you doing out so late?"

He smiled at his brother. "I could ask you the same thing, dear Brother. But it isn't important, one way or the other." He took a step towards Lucifer as he inquired, "How have you been? I haven't seen you in quite some time..."

His words fell silent on his tongue when he realized Lucifer had taken a step back as he had stepped forward. Lucifer spoke up as confusion pulled at Michael's expression.

"I've been well enough. You've been tending to yourself?"

Michael gave a slow nod. "Though that is nothing new." He took another step forward and again Lucifer took a step forward. Michael pulled his wings tight against his back, spreading his hands in confusion. "Why do you retreat, Brother? Surely you know that whatever you have done, I will help you through it." His smile was tight, sad. "I'm sure there is no prank you could have pulled that would have been worse than the one from-"

"I'm not in trouble," Lucifer cut in. The other Archangel looked away. "At least, not yet."

"Lucifer?" Michael asked, taking another step forward.

"Don't." Lucifer snapped, wings thrown out to the sides. Michael jerked back, hand curled towards his chest as he watched his Brother warily. Lucifer slowly came out of the stance, wings slowly going limp behind him. "Just. Don't."

"Lucifer," Michael spoke, though the word was choked in his throat. He swallowed and took a deliberate step forward. "There is nothing you could have done to turn me away."

Something fluttered passed his face and he blinked. Turning his head slightly, he watched a feather drift towards the ground behind him. And suddenly he understood.

"Are you sure about that?"

Michael turned his wide eyed gaze back to Lucifer, hand gripping at the fabric over his chest as some toxic blend of emotions churned within him.

Lucifer slowly strode forward, each step deliberate and his gaze never wavering from Michael's. There was a brief patch of moonlight that illuminated the other's dark hair before the shadows gave away completely revealing just what Lucifer had gotten himself into and Michael recoiled.

He recoiled from his own Brother and Michael felt disgusted with himself. This was Lucifer, his fellow Archangel and Brother. There was no reason to recoil - to react with disgust and disappointment - at the sight of those once white wings turning black. What white feathers still remained were wilted and looked ashen. It was only a matter of time before Lucifer was fully taken by sin.

His delay in giving an answer, his reaction, seemed to have been answer enough for Lucifer. The other angel turned, some toxic emotion half obscured by those changing wings. "That's what I thought," Lucifer stated bitterly.

Michael felt desperate as he rushed forward, soft wings barely letting his feet touch the ground as he tried to grab at Lucifer. He hesitated and it took a second for him to remind himself that it wasn't contagious - and to swallow back the nausea at the realization he had to convince himself - before he finally closed the distance and grabbed at Lucifer's wrist, stopping his movement.

"No, please," Michael urged, though it sounded like a beg even to his ears. But Lucifer didn't shake him off and he took that as some sort of a good sign. "I don't care that you've Fallen. I don't care that sin has taken you. You are still my Brother and I will still love you."

"And when God kicks me out of Heaven and deems me a lost cause, would you still love me then?" Lucifer challenged, turning on Michael. It was quite the feat for Michael to not flinch at the verbal attack. "Will you actually stand up for me when He sends me to Hell for my wrongdoings?"

Michael shook his head, wanting to tell Lucifer that of course he would, that he would stick by Lucifer no matter what, but he feared God and knew deep in his soul no word he spoke would still God's Judgment. "I-"

"You can't." The words were soft, gentle even, and Michael choked on a sob in his despair, tears rushing down his cheeks. It wasn't fair! Why did this have to happen to any of them? Why Lucifer?! Lucifer's larger hands cupped his cheeks and coaxed him to look up, thumbs rubbing away his tears. Michael met Lucifer's red gaze, clinging to the other's wrists in hopes of keeping him there. Why was Lucifer smiling such a painful smile? "And I understand." Lucifer pressed a soft kiss to Michael's forehead as another sob choked him. "Besides," Lucifer breathed against his skin, "I'd much rather Fall and take all the sin with me rather than see any of you Fallen as well."

Michael shook his head as best he could still trapped between Lucifer's hands, and opened his mouth.

Michael found himself with his cheek pressed against the table's hard surface, eyes sticky and his mouth dry. He winced when his head suddenly started pounding right along with his heart beat and he sat up, rubbing at his face to find his cheek tacky from him drooling. Disgusted, he got up and nearly toppled over onto the floor. He gripped at the table as he struggled to simply keep himself upright as the world kept twisting around him. It took far longer than it should have but, eventually, the world stilled enough for him to get his feet underneath him and he stumbled towards the kitchen.

The facet water was icy cold against his face and it woke him right up, not that it helped the pounding in his head. Swallowing a few handfuls, he draped a damp rag across the back of his neck as he wandered back to the table with a wet rag in hand.

The liquor bottle was just as empty as the tumbler he had been using and Michael mentally cursed Jesus's careless words and the influence he had on him. It was far more difficult to not hate Jesus and that deplorable personality his Brother had taken on.

Tossing the bottle into the recycling, he quickly washed the glass before moving to tend to his hangover. A glance at the clock told him he had plenty of hours left to waste away in bed till his next shift so he set out to do just that.

Hours later, as the first light of the new day filled the waking city, Michael found himself bundled in a heavy sweater wandering the largest park near his house. The air was still crisp and cool, frost causing the grass to sparkle and fog displaying the beams of morning sunlight.

He didn't see the other fellow walking in the other direction till he collided with the man's chest. A quick hand on his forearm kept him from toppling off balance and he gripped at the arm to keep himself upright.

"I'm so sorry," Michael rushed as he got himself upright. "I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going."

He finally looked up as a chuckle filled the air between them and he stared wide eyed at Luciano Fir, the man's grip on his arm gentler now that Michael seemed to be standing just fine. "It was not fair for me to stop directly into your path when it was clear you were oblivious to your surroundings." Luciano frowned. "You are otherwise unharmed?"

Michael nodded, offering a bright smile. "Only thing injured is my dignity and pride."

"And your hands."

Michael winced at that, his smile turning sheepish. "Barring that," he agreed. He shook his head. "How is it you and I keep running into each other? Certainly you are not seeking me out on purpose."

Luciano laughed and Michael found himself wanting to hear the sound more. Much more. "No, nothing like that." The look he gave Michael was hard to decipher. "Though I do admit I find it hard not to want to be in your presence when you are around."

Michael jumped, bewildered. "Why? I'm nothing special," he blurted.

Luciano's smile softened. "Oh, I doubt that but not knowing you would actually make that rather difficult to actually know." Luciano glanced passed Michael before focusing on him and offering, "I wasn't actually heading anywhere in particular. Do you want to go grab breakfast or a coffee with me?"

Michael blinked at him. Shame rushed through him on the heel of his sudden elation. He stepped out of Luciano's touch, replying, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I..." Michael took a breath, gathering what courage he had to meet the man's eyes. But the words he spoke had not been the ones he had intended. "I don't want to impose on you. You must certainly have something far more important to do than spend your morning with a simple cafe barista."

Luciano arched an eyebrow at him. "Isn't that for me to decide?"

"I-well, yes-"

"And did I not offer?"

"Well, yes, you did, but-"

"So what's the matter?"

"It sounds like a date!" he blurted, frustration at not being let to speak causing him to do so loudly. He was certain he was as red as an apple as he sputtered. "Ah-wait. That-That wasn't-"

"And what if it was a date?"

Michael's eyes snapped wide, gaze on the ground before him. He quickly looked up at Luciano to see the man very amused and patiently waiting for his response. Michael opened and closed his mouth a few times before he managed to breathe, "No lie?"

Luciano nodded. "No lie."

Michael opened his mouth to respond but a passerby suddenly stumbled, items going everywhere, and the words out of his mouth were reactional.

"It wasn't me!"

Michael was humiliated as Luciano was nearly bend double from laughter.

At least Michael got to hear that wonderful sound again, even if it was at his own expense.