40. Talk to me, Azizam
Aleiraah
The training incident left a bad taste in my mouth.
It's been a couple of days and I've been unsociable, not interacting with anyone except for Butterball.
The sight of Rinn lying on the ground writhing while his tentacles evaporated into smoke haunts my dreams. I'd wake up in cold sweat during the night but couldn't gather my wits enough to go and check on him.
My mind says he deserves it, and more. But my heart is a different story. It hurts. I need to overcome the fear of being touched by them. What if I accidentally come in contact with any of them? Will I always have a meltdown and run?
I know I need help. But I don't know what or who could help me. It's laughable really, that I counsel others yet I'm at a loss when it comes to my own issues.
The baby’s another worry. My stomach’s starting to round––too soon, I think, though I can’t be sure.
The library texts on cross-species pregnancy say nothing about showing this early.
I’ve been using glamour to hide it. My feelings are a mess.
One moment I wish I weren’t pregnant, the next I feel guilty for thinking it.
I'm mentally exhausted.
The visit to the Nephilim healer had been a bit odd.
The old coot had hemmed and hawed, frowning over my 'aura' for the better part of an hour.
Once I asked about the baby, he turned pretty vague.
Even Zenith had been irritated at his blasé attitude.
He promised to get me examined by the chief royal healer as soon as she's back from visiting her family.
After being assured everything’s fine, I came back to my quarters and locked Mooncleaver in my closet. I was unable to look at the weapon. A mournful low whine emanated from it, as it called to me. But I paid it no heed.
Snow has been my constant companion, the tinkling sound of bells following me wherever I go. It's the only thing bringing me peace apart from cuddle-time with Butter.
I've not taken any meals with Ispahan and his mates, choosing to stay in my room. But the four walls eventually got to me and I stepped out into the flower garden for a breath of fresh air.
I'm admiring the pinkish-white blooms standing beneath a huge magnolia tree, when I sense a presence behind me.
"Azizam."
I close my eyes, stiffening at his deep voice––steel encased in velvet. Azael. Of course it's him who'd sneak up on me.
My heart clenches painfully hearing him call me 'beloved'. Azizam––my beloved.
Oh how I have basked in that sentiment all these years. That someone so reserved loves me so ardently. That I've been the only one to breach the walls around his heart.
Perhaps it's foolish pride that made me think of myself in such terms. In my eyes he could do no wrong. He was my perfect angel. My hero. He'd been my rock.
I had trusted him implicitly, all the while putting him on a pedestal, and when he fell, I was the one hurt who got hurt the most.
"Won't you look at me, Azizam?" He coaxes in a voice resembling crushed silk. I am tempted to turn and gaze into his eyes. But I dare not. My emotions are still volatile. Who knows what will happen. So I take a few steps toward the castle when his voice ensnares me again.
"Talk to me, Azizam. Please." My footsteps halt at the pleading note. I've rarely heard Azael say please.
He wears his nonchalance like impenetrable armor. Handing out smiles like rare treasures. Showing his soft, playful side only to me. That's why when he turned so unbearably cold, I couldn't relate to that version of him.
I was scared, witnessing an Azael so apathetic to my pain and distress.
The memory still lodges a sliver of fear in my heart.
The feeling is jarring and I decide that I'm no coward who'd run away showing my back.
I whirl around meeting his eyes directly.
His sapphire orbs study me from head to toe, not missing an inch.
I feel a little flushed under that intense stare but try to remain impassive.
"What happened on the training grounds was not your fault." He says solemnly.
I keep my gaze focused on him as I ask in a low voice, "How's Rinn?"
He takes a step forward, "He's fine. Healed. He's eager to see you again."
I only manage a slight nod.
"He regrets grasping you with his tentacles, but in his defense he was lifting you out of the way of the spinning battle axe." Azael tries to explain.
"Since when did you start explaining others' actions?" I ask sarcastically, as Azael generally remains aloof.
"Since I realized that not everything is black and white. Since I lost you because of my foolish idealism." He shrugs.
"Oh?" I lift an eyebrow, unable to believe Azael admitting that his worldview is flawed.
"When I travelled through the depths of Duat trying to reach you, I realized many things, Azizam. I've been turning a blind eye to my own failings, the slow corruption of my soul. Eventually I lashed out at you. I regret my actions deeply.
"I loathe that I didn’t put a stop to it when my brethren spoke about you derogatorily.
I made myself a priority, buying time, all the while planning to choke the life out of those sanctimonious imbeciles.
I wanted to still appear untouchable before them.
It was already too much that I had to rely on their handouts.
"So I ignored their words. I allowed the darkness breeding within me to eclipse rational thoughts. And it manifested in the most basest of ways––harming you, the most important thing in my existence." He says in a tone filled with such intense self-loathing that goosebumps break over my skin.
I stand mutely as he continues, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Witnessing my dishonorable deeds, how I tortured you with the intent to hurt––like you're my enemy, not my lover––the darkness in me twisted in agony.
That night, I watched you fall apart, and I only added to your pain, rejoicing in it.
Self hatred is not something I'm familiar with, Aleiraah.
Yet, here I'm, drowning in it." He spreads his arms helplessly.
"It has me in a chokehold when I look at you." He looks at me fervently, waiting for me to say something. But I'm at a loss.
Azael has never laid himself bare to me. Sure, it's a balm to the wounds he inflicted, but it isn't enough to make me trust him, or forgive him.
My gaze shifts to Snow, hopping between magnolia branches. Azael fills the silence, sensing I won’t speak.
"I judged you harshly like I'd any mortal from my lofty seat." He smiles self-deprecatingly.
"I thought I'd accepted the grays of this life, but I was only fooling myself.
I very much still looked at the world in rights and wrongs, with no room for anything in between.
And to my eternal shame, I used my powers to heal the offender that sullied your honor.
" He drops his head, his voice a gravelly whisper.
The perfectly stoic Azael had never sounded so ashamed. It doesn't explain his silence though, letting his brethren insult me.
"What about the fact that you considered fucking another angel, Azael?" I ask, stepping closer so he can feel the ice in my words.
"I didn't go through with it, Azizam!" He insists firmly.
"So noble of you! Such restraint!" I laugh without humor. "You did consider it though."
"I wouldn't have done it." He shakes his ash-blond head.
"I don't believe you," I sneer. "You kept going back to those awful creatures. Didn't put a stop to the filth they spewed!"
He takes another step forward. "I'm sorry, I prioritized my need for power over your honor. But Azizam, I wanted to be able to heal you should anything happen."
"I'd rather die than have you heal me with your ill-gotten manna!" I hiss, turning to leave but Azael grabs my wrist.
His eyes widen in surprise, as if afraid of my reaction.
This is the first he's touched me since that night. But I'm prepared this time. My tail snaps out and wraps around his throat, tightly.
His face reddens slowly from the lack of air. I increase the pressure, tempted to cut off his air completely.
But instead of struggling, what does the bastard do? He enjoys it.
The edges of his sinful lips curl into a barely there smile. "That's it, Azizam." He whispers, while rubbing slow circles on the inside of my wrist.
His touch sends a tingle down my spine and I yank away my hand, taking a step back. Azael licks his dry lips, eyes gone dark.
Unwinding my tail, I rub my wrist against my clothes, trying to wipe away the warmth of his touch. I'm unsure if I hate it or miss it.
The heat in his sapphire gaze dims and his face turns serious.
"Back in Duat, I compounded my mistakes by bringing up Jadeth. Instead of apologizing for my sins, I made you defensive."
At the mention of Jadeth, my spine stiffens, but I maintain a stony expression, letting him speak his mind. If nothing, it'd show me how prejudiced he still is.
To my surprise he takes a completely different path.
"But understand this, Azizam, I didn't have any malicious intent when I asked you about him.
I wasn't slandering you. I wanted to understand what role he played in your past. Because it certainly has some impact on the present.
Wanted to get to the bottom of everything that's happened so I could be prepared for what's about to come.
I wish to keep you safe this time, since I did such a pathetic job of it in the past." He implores, fists clenched as his throat bobs.
And I think it's time that he gets the full picture. He can share it with the rest of the seven. Perhaps that'll drive them away finally. It's a gamble I'm willing to take.
So I begin, while gazing at Snow, who's singing a happy melody while sniffing a magnolia on a high branch.