Hazy thoughts, lucid memories
On Aiden’s front porch, Nathaniel noticed a doorbell that definitely hadn’t been there before, because his team hadn’t given this house one. Once again, in retrospect, they should have, but if it had one now, that meant Aiden had managed the forms and requested it. Nathaniel rang the doorbell, and a moment later, the door unlocked. As it slowly swung open, he saw an automation system where the metal lock met the doorframe that Aiden must’ve activated from inside. Huh. Had he done all this himself or gotten somebody to do it for him? The latter sounded a lot more like the image Nathaniel had of him, but he’d give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he really was a lot more tech-savvy than he let on.
The door closed behind him, the living room blinds lowered, and once he reached the hallway, the ceiling lights lit up. Aiden must have fully automated the place. He sat at the small round table by the forms and their envelopes, surrounded by books and letters. Nathaniel's arrival turned him around for a glance, moving the chair to face him better, a piece of paper in his hand.
“Dude, the Oracle is absolutely insane. I sent her one question and she sent me twenty-five pages of total nonsense back. Well, not really nonsense; it’s more like code, but it’s so intricate it might as well be nonsense.”
“Oh.” Shit, he'd completely forgotten just how incomprehensible these beings were to the human mind. Hopefully, the Oracle had dumbed it down for Aiden, so her ramblings would, at the very least, not drive him insane. “Sorry, she can be pretty intense sometimes.”
“Yeah, no shit. I’m getting through it, though. She’s kind of a genius, I mean, listen to this.” Here, Aiden cleared his throat and straightened his back, reading from the paper in his hand. “The order of angels is a pious one, however dipped in blood and wrapped in velvet, blinded by the hands that cover their eyes and melt onto their skins, becoming one, becoming two, giving them purpose. The souls in eternal rest, in The Abyss and in Paradise, are doomed to rationalize and exert while the world rots and consciousness dissipates, in the care of creatures and warriors that bear the same insignia under different names. Wars that break to mend the bridge between the realms; brothers in arms, lovers from a different era, and the ones trapped in limbo. Angels that fought to find themselves, angels that fought for salvation; beings of light and bearers of pain, in front of you, in front of us.” A pause, and Aiden looked up at him.
Standing stiffly by the archway, Nathaniel listened to his pulse rush loudly in his ears. He said nothing.
“It’s all shit like this,” Aiden continued, leaning back onto his seat. “Poetry and code and absolute nonsense, but only in the sense that I can't compare to her genius, because I know she probably has all the knowledge of the universe right at her fingertips while I’m probably like, a cockroach in comparison. She’s the guy living in downtown Manhattan and I’m the rat crawling through the sewer. It feels like this letter came from a different dimension.”
“I’m sorry about that. Perhaps contacting her wasn’t such a great idea.”
“No, it was; I just need a break.” Aiden got up from the chair and crossed the hall, letter forgotten on the table. “She keeps talking about angels, so I’ve been looking into that. I feel like I should know how things work around here.” He took a pizza box from the fridge and lay it on the counter, flipping it open for a slice. If he wanted a fresh one, he could just have ordered it, but something told Nathaniel he actually did just want cold leftover pizza. It was a conscious choice.
His silence prompted brown eyes to glance up at him, catching his attention with a tilt of the head. “C’mover here. Why do you always stand by the door like that?”
“Oh, uh.” Awkwardly, Nathaniel took a few steps into the room, across the counter from Aiden, maintaining the longest possible distance between them. “I suppose it’s just a habit.”
“Habit from where? Or is that just how you’re expected to behave in front of the gods?”
“No, not really; they're a lot more forbearing than their reputation leads on. We don’t actually interact with any of them, or almost none of us do. There are only a select few who have ever even seen them in the first place. The Oracle, for example; she’s one of those people.”
Aiden nodded as he spoke, slowly, paying very close attention to every word that left his mouth. His focus told Nathaniel he should be very careful with what he said.
“I read that there’s a hierarchy up here and each different being is assigned a specific task based on their species, or whatever you wanna call it, which pretty much binds them to a lifestyle they don’t necessarily want. Is that true? Were you put into this system against your will and assigned a job you have to deliver for the rest of eternity? Because, I mean, you guys don’t die, right? So you’ll be working your asses off pretty much forever, doing something you probably hate.”
“It’s not like that at all; there are multiple different careers to choose from and apply for. Sometimes, we might need a certain skill set for the job we want, so we’ll need a little training before applying, but for the most part, we can choose what we’d like to do.”
“Okay, so give me a few examples of all these careers, I mean, I don’t even know what you do.”
“Well, in extremely broad terms, I guess you could say that, first and foremost, angels act upon the will of the gods; we do what must be done and deliver on their best interests. We are also given the care and well-being of human souls to manage, which opens up a wide array of options. We have architects, guardians, entertainers, overseers, helpers, lookouts, creators—you get the point. That’s just in the subsection of human care, by the way. The career paths centered on more directly serving the gods aren’t as rich in options and can be a little more difficult to apply for than human care. We generally separate those angels into a different category altogether, but it’s important to keep track of the fact that all of us are directly responsible for looking after humans, so even an archangel can sometimes be assigned mundane tasks. They don’t necessarily have to mean anything out of the ordinary.”
“Makes sense that you’re a guardian angel, then,” Aiden commented briefly, throwing the empty pizza box aside.
When their eyes met again, Aiden's entire countenance changed, sharpened, a specter from the past. He knew this look, locked on him through the dim lighting in their tent, a single lamp by his leg; two mats pushed together under the weight of their bodies and virtually no space between them, breathing the same air, hot on his face. That look, a lean and a kiss and his eyes shut, mouth hard on his own, a surge of warmth all across his face.
Aiden smirked. "Does that mean I’ll have you for the rest of eternity?” His voice was low, velvety, teasing on purpose, spoken around the smirk like a curse, putting a familiar glint in honey-brown eyes that blurred the line between now and then, fixed squarely on Nathaniel, setting his veins alight; hands on his body, singeing like fire.
Swallowing dry, Nathaniel glanced at the counter between them to break the stare. It was nothing. A shaky exhale, hands closed into tight fists. He forced his shoulders to relax. “Unfortunately, Aiden, I’m only assigned to you for a month,” he explained, voice trembling a bit. “My purpose is to see that you acclimate to your surroundings and feel comfortable in your new home.” Those words were practically forced out of his mouth, scraping his throat on the way up.
“But that’s not all you do.”
That made him look up to see Aiden lean both elbows over the counter, shoulders up to his ears, eyes squinting up at him. Suspicious, but back to relative normalcy. A weight lifted from his back.
“Unless you happen to be managing ten other assignments alongside mine, this isn’t all you do," Aiden continued. "You don’t spend nearly enough time monitoring me to fill up an entire day, so where do you go when you leave? What do you do between checks?”
“That’s none of your business.” It slipped out before he could catch it, absent, careless, a defensive overreaction. Immediately, his lips parted for an apology, but nothing came out. Across from him, Aiden nodded, moving away from the counter.
“That’s fair.” His tone was rigid now, vexation on the crease between his brows, jaw set tight. Nathaniel had pissed him off. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then; wouldn’t want to keep you from the rest of your very busy day.”
Another swallow, even drier this time around, heart beating faster. He'd made a mistake and wanted to apologize for it, but as his lungs breathed in and his shoulders squared off, nothing left his throat. Words were on the bed of his tongue, heart squeezing around them—he couldn't say it. There was something in his blood, a feeling that raced down his veins. His jaw set and his teeth clenched. Instead of apologizing for his cross behavior, he nodded once, curt, and left the room. No ceremonies, no goodbyes, and no looks over the shoulder; he didn’t want to be here anymore.
Aiden was starting to get under his skin. Ideally, he shouldn’t let him. Being the one in charge of his happiness, Nathaniel should really just let it go, but the way Aiden behaved, disrespecting him, interested only in himself and his stupid search for someone nameless; his complete disregard for basic decency, the constant flirting that just drove him up the damn wall—that was why people like him never made it up here. Despite his drive and diligence, he was selfish. Determination was a double-edged sword and he knew that. The confidence he had in himself and how highly he regarded his own skills, the master of all truths, the best choice for the throne; all locked behind a pair of lips that spoke of liberation and the good of the people before kissing him full on the lips. But what about us? United in hatred, even if his touch had been tender once, eyes soft, words low, kissing down Nathaniel's neck with promises of a better tomorrow, as if he even cared about that at all. As if it wasn't all just a ploy to overthrow his boss disguised as society's best interests. Lies that were pressed to the bed of his tongue and swallowed down his throat so softly, so sweetly that he'd almost even fallen for them. Fallen for him.
Oh god, he missed him.
“Nathaniel.” Charmaine’s voice was loud and stern, cutting through him like a spear in the skull, making every head in the room turn to look at him. His breathing ceased right then, eyes wide. “Is there something on your mind?” she asked, irritation in her voice, a scowl on her forehead.
“Sorry, I…” There was nothing to say. Awkwardly, he shifted in his seat and organized the papers in front of him, just to keep his hands busy and avoid the burning stares. “I don’t feel very much like myself today.”
Movement out of the corner of his eye and a hand grabbed his arm, tight around the wrist, twisting it to lay his palm face-up on the table. His shirt sleeve hitched with the movement, exposing a good portion of his skin, the redness that marked it. On the one hand, it looked better than yesterday, but on the other, the entire board was now seeing it for the first time, a ghastly sight that drew surprised gasps. The red on Charmaine’s nails shone as she moved his arm for inspection, bringing a second hand over to snatch his sleeve up to the elbow, as if she already knew about The Bleeding. The look on her face was perfectly impassive, eyes down at the imprint of Aiden’s fingers.
“Take the rest of the day off,” she ordered, letting go of him to lean back onto her padded chair. “You’re a liability like this.”
“I’m really not,” he countered, quick to defend himself. “Nothing’s even happened to me and I don’t think it will. I just had a couple of things on my mind, but they’re gone now. I’ll apply myself, I promise. I’m one hundred percent here.”
Her already slim eyes narrowed even further. The room was completely silent; he could hear the rushing of his own pulse.
“Very well, but if I see you’re not following, you will be distanced from your position.”
“Yes, that’s fair. Thank you.”
Given that the board had found out about The Bleeding, it would be prudent to bring it up in tonight’s report, before it spread too much and potentially got to the lords through somebody else. At this point, he was on damage control. Once the quill was actually in his hand, however, he couldn’t decide how to approach it. Should he start with it right away, or maybe with Aiden and somehow work it in later, or just mention it in passing as something that was already being taken care of? Yes, surely the latter, so the lords wouldn’t even waste their time with that, but still know of the incident from him rather than a member of the board.
His hand shook but he forced it onto the page anyway, doing his best to describe how he'd just been helping Aiden out of the water when some of it got on him. Not a big deal; nothing had even come from it. His pulse skipped. In truth, he couldn’t even think of a side effect that had afflicted him yet, aside from perhaps growing a little distracted a little too easily, but that was barely of any concern; Charmaine could snap him out of anything. He was fine and already taking care of it. Everything was under control.
As for Aiden, he was doing well; the drive to study and learn ran strongly in his veins. The library had become his favorite room. He hadn’t really gone outside or explored much of Paradise yet, too focused on this project for now, but that wasn’t inherently bad. Nathaniel considered this research a positive influence in his life, a source of motivation and purpose, but if it ended up turning him into a hermit, self-isolating in order to see it done, then an intervention might be in order. Nathaniel would keep them posted. If either Salus or any of the other lords heard from Charmaine, also know that there was no cause for alarm; she just worried too much about him sometimes.
Sealing the envelope, he told himself he wasn’t lying. He might have downplayed the actual effects of The Bleeding and Charmaine’s concern, but he didn’t want to give the lords reason for a meeting. He just wanted to do his job and stay out of trouble. It was more than obvious that Charmaine would take the news somewhere; he just wasn’t sure where or how quickly she'd do it. He should talk to her tomorrow morning, find some common ground. She'd been sympathetic to him before; she could do it again.
The reason why he hadn’t reported this earlier still loomed in the air, though. If anybody asked, he'd say, casual and calm that well, it was nothing he couldn't handle himself. He was a soldier, after all; he'd been through worse. It was a disingenuous reply at best and a stupid one at worst, but he’d take his chances. Hopefully the lords, or at the very least Salus, as soldiers themselves, would understand his reasoning, because he knew Charmaine wouldn’t.
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