by T. R. Hamby
“Just work,” he said, bending down to rearrange her blanket. “Talking to clients. I really wish you would lie down on the bed.”
“So what--you just chat up your clients until they buy something from you?”
He smirked and nodded. “Basically.”
She studied him. “No other bad guys right now?”
He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No, not right now. Soon, I’m sure.”
He left, leaving the door open a few inches, and in the foggy state she was in--her stomach lurching and the room spinning--she wondered about his bathroom habits. It was strange--she had spent a lot of time with him now, and not once had she seen him use the bathroom. Unless he had snuck off when she was sleeping...still, she was a light sleeper. She would have noticed.
She must have fallen asleep soon after, because the next thing she knew, she was being settled into bed, Mel tucking the covers around her. She opened her eyes, and by the dimness of the room, could tell it was evening. Mel hadn’t noticed her wake, and she watched him go into his closet--a giant walk-in, go figure--and reemerge in just a pair of sweatpants.
He caught her eye and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she murmured sleepily.
“How do you feel?” he asked, getting into bed beside her.
“Much better,” she said, but she frowned when he put an arm around her. “Are you sure you want to do that? I’m gross.”
“You’re not gross, you weirdo,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Just go to sleep, and try not to worry.”
She drew close and laid her head on his chest. She realized, with a little jolt, that she had been at the complete mercy of Mel for the last twenty-four hours, and probably would be for the next. But everything was okay...he had taken care of her, better even than Izzie would. And without asking for a thing in return--not even sex. She wasn’t sure why this surprised her so much. Perhaps she was used to a different breed of man.
She smoothed her palm down his scar, thinking. “Have I been irritating you?” she asked quietly.
There was confusion in his voice, and he brushed at her hair soothingly. “No. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know...I mean...I must be a nuisance right now. I mean, I just spent the whole day throwing up your prima colazione, in your bathroom. And I might end up doing the same thing tomorrow. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Well, it’s not my idea of a day in, but--”
“So why, then?”
“Because,” he said, and she could hear exasperation in his voice, “you’re my friend, and I care about you.”
Nora was surprised. “I thought I was your...you know--lover, or whatever.”
“I’ve heard somewhere that lovers can be friends,” he said dryly. “Now go to sleep. And stop being so paranoid.”
She kept quiet after that; she could tell he was annoyed, and she didn’t feel well enough for an argument.
She fell asleep again, but woke later to movement in the bed. She opened her eyes and sat up, a little dizzily. Mel was tossing again, murmuring in his sleep. Nora turned on the bedside lamp and watched him struggle, whispering, a grimace on his face.
She frowned; she could just make out his words…
“Please...stop...don’t hurt her...please...kill me…”
A chill ran down her spine, and she grasped his shoulder, shaking him. “Mel, wake up. Wake up.”
He jolted awake, gasping. She could just see his blue eyes in the dimness.
“Fuck,” he breathed, sitting up. He seemed to suddenly notice her, and he grasped her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Nora replied soothingly. “You had a bad dream.”
He stared at her for a moment, panicked, before reality seemed to set in. He let out a sigh, and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Sorry,” he breathed.
“It’s okay,” Nora said, rubbing his arm. “Lie back down--”
“No--I need to…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but got out of bed and left the room. Nora stared at the door as he closed it, frowning, and hugged her knees to her chest. God, what was that about? She remembered his words, and she shivered. Had he been reliving something horrible?
No. No, it couldn’t be. Nora remembered what he had said about his first love--that she had died. Had she been killed? Murdered, even? Was that why Mel hunted bad people?
It took her a long while to fall back to sleep. She listened, but couldn’t hear much except the occasional tinkling of a glass on the table. He must have been drinking. She didn’t blame him, especially if her hunch was right. God, what had Mel been through?
Mel
200,000 Years Ago
“Mel,” Lilith’s voice said, and he opened his eyes.
They were in the clearing, as usual. Mel was lying in the grass, and Lilith was sitting beside him, frowning at him. He realized he had been sleeping, and he blinked at her.
“Sorry,” he murmured, shaking himself. “I fell asleep, didn’t I?”
“You did,” she replied, but she looked tender. “Did you not sleep well last night?”
“I haven’t been sleeping well for a while now,” he said, sitting up.
“Why?”
Because of you, was what he wanted to say. But he knew he couldn’t. He shrugged instead, and she frowned.
“You don’t want to tell me,” she said shrewdly.
He felt a little startled. He shifted uncomfortably--he didn’t want to lie.
“It’s not something I should tell you,” he said quietly.
She looked disappointed, and stared down at her hands.
“Father doesn’t want to tell me anything about my Existence,” she whispered. “Adam doesn’t want to speak to me at all. And now you--”
“It’s not like that,” he said soothingly.
“Then why not tell me?” she insisted.
He sighed, looking away. If only she understood how he felt for her. Then she wouldn’t have to ask.
“I think of you,” he finally said. “I worry for you. It keeps me awake.”
He chanced a glance at her, and found that she was frowning, troubled. She studied her hands again.
“Do you really care for me that much?” she whispered.
Mel stared at her, hurt. “Of course I do,” he said firmly. “More than anything.”
She looked touched--but also confused.
“But why?” she whispered. “I’m not like you. I’m not strong or Talented...I’m not much of anything.”
He reached out and took her hand, and although they had held hands a thousand times now, this time she looked surprised--intrigued.
“Don’t think that way,” he said firmly. “You are much more extraordinary than any of us.”
She was studying their hands, and with her other hand traced his fingers. Her touch was warm, made him almost shiver. She was frowning, and Mel could tell she was thinking--thinking hard. He assumed she was mulling over what he had said, and waited patiently, trying to ignore her fingers brushing his hand.
After a long moment she looked up. There was an odd look on her face.
“Come chase me,” she said, and she jumped to her feet, letting go of his hand and darting across the clearing.
He frowned at her, chuckling. That was a strange change in mood--but he wasn’t complaining. He got up and charged her, wheeling around as she sprinted away. His shoes slipped on the grass, and she laughed, zigzagging away, her hair swaying.
“Let me get you,” she commanded, and it was Mel’s turn to be chased. Lilith was faster than him, and had her arms around his waist right away. He dropped to the ground and she tumbled onto him, breathing heavily and giggling madly.
Mel was grinning, looking up at her...and then she cupped his face in her hand and kissed him.
He jumped and pulled away, his heart racing. “Lilith.”
She flushed and got off of him, sitting beside him in the grass. “I’m sorry.”<
br />
He sat up slowly, his heart still pounding in his chest. She had kissed him. It had really happened.
Father would be furious.
He sighed, running his hands through his hair. Lilith picked at the grass, looking guilty.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, moaning a little.
Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know.”
He sighed again. He wanted, with every fiber of his being, to kiss her again--this time properly. He couldn’t tell if she had kissed him out of mere curiosity, or out of love for him, but the urge was there all the same, strong and nagging.
No. He shook his head--they couldn’t. It was wrong. Wasn’t it?
“Lilith,” he whispered, “if Father knew...he would be livid.”
A couple tears rolled down her cheeks, and she brushed at them impatiently.
He felt an ache, and he touched her hand. “Please don’t cry.”
She wiped at her eyes, taking a shuddering breath, and drew close, laying her head on his shoulder. He held her--he had never done that before, but it seemed the situation called for it. It was still distracting, though--the smell of her hair, her bare skin beneath his arms. She shifted, shivering slightly.
“Don’t you want to?” she murmured.
He was silent. He knew he couldn’t say. It was too dangerous.
She slowly pulled away to look at him. Her dark eyes were still teary, but she was studying him. Mel felt almost frozen--she was so close to him, and his hands were still on her waist.
Then she kissed him again, and this time he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled her against him, cupping her face in his hand, loving the feel of her lips against his. He had known it would feel good, but not as good as it turned out to be. They kissed roughly, hands wandering. Her skin was hot beneath his hands, as he slipped them up her waist, over her breasts. She moaned, leaning into him.
He was hot, dizzy, and everything was happening so fast. Her hands went down to his pants, and he helped her tear them off. He didn’t let himself think, didn’t let himself hesitate, like all the times he had before. He needed her now, wanted her more fiercely than he had wanted anything.
She gripped his shoulders, easing herself onto him, and gasped. Mel groaned, holding her waist. She felt incredible. She started moving immediately, and they held each other, breathing heavily, moaning. They locked eyes and grinned, chuckling.
“Take this off,” she breathed, touching the hem of his shirt. He slipped it off, and she let out a breath, running her hands along his chest. He did the same, touching her breasts, and she let out a moan. She moved faster, harder, and Mel swore, gripping her waist.
She was flushed, biting her lip, digging her nails into his shoulders. Then she clapped a hand to her mouth, muffling a delighted cry, her body wonderfully tense.
Mel kissed her, tangling a hand into her hair. He was still desperate, needing, and he took her by the waist and turned them over, laying her in the grass. She grinned, arching beneath him, and he swore again, easing back inside her. He started moving, hovering over her, feeling the tension build, so intense, while she tangled her fingers into his hair, dug her nails into his skin, moaned his name.
He hissed as pleasure exploded within him, so good, and after a few dizzying moments he stilled. Both of them were breathing heavily, and they looked at each other, both shocked and delighted by what they had done.
Mel lied down beside her, catching his breath, a happy grin on his face. Lilith curled into him, slinging an arm across his waist, and he put an arm around her.
He stared at the sky. It was such a deep blue. More beautiful than the sky back Home. All of Father’s Creation here was beautiful--but none so beautiful as her.
But as his high faded, fear set in. What had he done? He had slept with Father’s Creation--right by the Tree, of all places. He had surpassed disobedience, gone so far beyond the line. When Father found out...he would be murderous.
Lilith must have sensed his change in mood, because she sat up, brushing at his cheek.
“It’s all right,” she said soothingly, but he shook his head.
“It’s not,” he replied, sitting up. “Lilith--what we’ve done--what I’ve done--”
“It was perfect.”
“Father will be livid.”
“You wish it hadn’t happened,” she whispered. She looked devastated, and tears flooded her eyes again.
The fear he had regarding Father immediately changed to panic, and he held her face in his hands. “No--no. No, I’m happy. I promise.”
She still didn’t look convinced, though she reached up and touched his hand.
“You don’t love me.”
He stared at her for a small moment, completely flabbergasted. He had thought it would have been obvious by now--after what they had done.
He lifted her chin, and she looked at him. “Of course I love you.”
She stared at him too, and she went a little pale.
She gripped his wrists, letting out a breath. “Truly?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes. You couldn’t tell?”
“I thought Messengers couldn’t love.”
He frowned, casting around for the right words. “I didn’t think we could either. But you’re not a Messenger,” he said, brushing at her cheek. “You are far more precious.”
“I’m not,” she whispered, and she began to cry again.
“You are.”
She took a few deep breaths, brushing at her eyes. Mel brushed his fingers through her hair soothingly, feeling an ache in his chest. He didn’t want her to cry. He wanted her to be happy.
It was the most important thing, he realized with a jolt. Making her happy. They had crossed the threshold--there was no going back. What mattered now was her happiness, her safety.
The only way to do that was to run.
He took her hand. “We have to leave,” he said firmly. “We have to get away from here. Father will know what we’ve done.”
She looked a little frightened, and was, for once, speechless.
“Come on,” he said, helping her stand. There was no time to waste. “We’ll go to your camp--get your things--and then we’ll leave.”
“Where?” she breathed, as he dressed.
“East. Then north.”
He took her hand, and they hurried out of the clearing, past the stream, into the camp she shared with the Man. The Man was sleeping--as usual--and Lilith scrambled around, collecting things and stuffing them into her basket. The basket had straps, and she slung it over her shoulders.
“Will he kill us?” she whispered as they crossed the stream again. She nearly clung to him, holding his hand and gripping his arm with the other.
He turned, halting for a moment so he could kiss her. This seemed to shock her out of her panic, and she threw her arms around his neck.
He broke away, holding her face again. “We have a head start. We’ll go far. We won’t stop.”
She absorbed this, her breathing beginning to slow. She nodded.
“Whatever happens--I love you,” she said firmly. “More than anything.”
He felt a thrill, and he grinned. “Truly?” he teased, echoing her words from earlier, and she giggled.
He kissed her again, quickly, before pulling away. “We have to go.”
Mel
It wasn’t a good night for bad dreams. He ended up sleeping on the couch, waking every hour or so from another horrid nightmare.
Lilith in his arms. Lilith dead on the ground. Lilith beaming at him. Lilith screaming in terror. Her staring eyes. Her cold hands.
He finally slept without dreams, and woke to find Nora beside him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
“Hey,” she murmured gently. “I made breakfast.”
“You’re very early,” he said without thinking.
“No--it’s eleven,” she said patiently.
Mel frowned, the information absorbing slowly. Then it hit him, and he shook his head, sitting
up. “Fuck, is it?”
“Yes. But it’s okay--I made pancakes.”
“Fuck,” he said again, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m sorry--shit…”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I usually don’t sleep like this, I promise.”
She had an oddly understanding look on her face. “It’s okay, Mel. But you’d better hurry up and eat--I’m about to take that second pill.”
She kissed his cheek, and then got up and went to the table to eat. Mel felt a little flustered, and he decided to take a quick shower.
All these memories. They were crowding in his mind and poisoning his sleep. He was being haunted again, and it was tormenting him. He wished he could see her again, just once more, just to know she was still happy...still safe…
But he wasn’t allowed into Heaven. He wasn’t allowed anywhere anymore, outside of the confines of Earth and Hell. He wasn’t even allowed on the fucking moon.
When he was dressed he returned to the kitchen. Nora was still at the table, playing on her phone, and he sat beside her. She seemed almost subdued today, and he thought of what he had said last night.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said quietly. “I was an ass.”
She looked at him and shook her head. “You weren’t. I was just being weird. I guess I’m still young, you know. I don’t really know how friendships work.”
He frowned at her, taking his fork and digging into his pancakes. He wasn’t hungry--he never was, as an Angel. But they looked delicious, and he never passed on good food.
“You seem old enough to know,” he said gently, glancing at her.
She looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess so. I guess I haven’t been hanging with the right people. Like with Bezi--I mean, she’s great, but I couldn’t even tell her I was pregnant. Doesn’t say much.”
She shrugged, playing with her fork. “Things got kind of messed up when my dad died,” she said. “I think I’ve been trying to catch up ever since.”
Mel smiled at her, and reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’re doing far better than most people. Trust me.”