Chapter 25 Charlie
While Suriel’s been in and out of half-lucid nightmares, I’ve been studying. Dante and Suriel echo one another. Dante’s just a lot clearer. Which is why, especially after Suriel’s intense fuck-fest and Dante’s description, I know for sure that Lust bit him.
Dante wrote that Gluttony is filled with insects (like the demon that grabbed me). Lust is windy – so that’s the one that was definitely the one that attacked Suriel from behind.
Shaking my head, I go back upstairs to check my angel with two candles in hand.
His wound hasn’t been leaking pus or blood in the last hour, so I peel the wrapping away and see that the skin is puckered, but looks scarred.
His tattoos seem to have shifted, one angel seems to be trying to stitch some pieces back together using a rapier.
I touch one of the angels, curious, but it feels like a static shock, so I draw my hand back and look at Suriel’s face again. I wipe my still buzzing finger on my thigh.
I haven’t slept since Suriel’s screams keep waking me.
My body is sore from my fight with the hellhound and from fucking Suriel (my ass is bright red and my thighs ache pleasantly), but I’m restless.
Twenty hours since I woke up, give or take.
It’s two in the morning and the world is shockingly quiet.
Horribly quiet.
Like everything is waiting for the next event.
No hellhounds.
No demons.
No crazy humans.
“Just us. Just like you said,” I murmur. “But I don’t think God is watching anymore, angel. I think your divinity is the last shred of Heaven’s favor we have.”
He doesn’t stir at all.
At least his fever’s broken.
I brush my fingers through his tangled hair and eye him. I’ve already given him a thorough sponge bath and he didn’t jump me, so I think he’s out of whatever mania he was stuck in.
He’s gorgeous still. Even with his ravaged shoulders and his red veins showing through his pale skin.
I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. Knowing he was telling me the truth the whole time, that he didn’t lie to me about what was going on, that he knew how bad it could get, but still came after me, never once said I was too much …
I kiss the wound in some kind of belated apology.
His head turns away from me. “Don’t.”
“You said you wouldn’t say ‘no’ again,” I remind him, then reach down into the bucket I’ve scrubbed and since filled with soapy water. I gently dab his wound just so I have something to do. He grabs my wrist and I arch an eyebrow at his dismal, tired gaze. “Don’t you remember?”
He blinks a few times and rubs his head.
I watch him process, watch him drink in the hickey on my neck, the bite mark on the top of my breast that’s exposed since I’m only wearing low-slung sweats and a sports bra I found.
“That … that happened? The rosary beads …” His weak voice trails off.
“Yes,” I say, then blush. “That was a surprise.”
“I choked you,” he touches my neck, then draws back, like touching me burns him. “I failed. I never should have … I told you to leave! Why did you stay?”
“Failed what? I’m pretty sure my pussy thinks you succeeded,” I grumble. “You got plenty of pleasure too – came twice. I guess angels were made to fuck. And that halo … is that why your dick kept vibrating and-”
“That shouldn’t have happened. It was wrong – a mistake,” he says, letting me go. “It was the bite.”
I draw back and try to calm my frustration, taking a slow breath.
“I stayed to protect you, to take care of you, like you’ve been doing for me,” I whisper, trying to force a lid on my building rage and humiliation.
“I only wanted to help you, Suriel. After running from you, fighting you, insulting you … taking care of your wound was the least I could do. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one who started it. ”
“Which is why I told you to hide!” He says, sitting up angrily.
I flinch back and nod once while biting my bottom lip. I should have told him no. Even though I wanted it. If I knew … no. I should have been able to predict he’d act this way. Always so ‘holier than thou,’ and so out of touch with what people are okay with.
“Your catholic guilt is showing,” I huff.
“That isn’t funny. What we did … It shouldn’t have happened, Charlie. I was barely functioning. I was hallucinating,” he says, then turns away from me. “I’ll heal in a few hours. You should stay away until I come down.”
“Right,” I hiss. His gaze flicks to me as I get up, tossing the rag at him.
“I was clear about my limits. This isn’t what I planned and it’s not-”
“You’re an ass,” I interrupt him.
He nods, exasperated. “I’m well aware that I’ve sinned. I never should have-”
“You didn’t sin! You demanded. I’ve never been with anyone that rough! You call me blasphemous and you say all of that? You tell me I’m made for you, that I’m yours, always yours, and now you’re calling me a mistake?” I ask in a lethally calm voice.
“Charlie,” he says.
“You’re a pathetic excuse for an angel. You get me to believe, to actually believe. You make me feel a million things and I’m sure you know it. Just like I know you feel things even if you won’t admit it. Why are you so determined to paint me as the temptress, when we both wanted that!?”
“Just-”
“At least a human would admit that they were horny! A human would say they were caught up in the moment, but that everything they felt while infected, they’d felt before that!
You’re more human than you want to fucking admit, but you’re so fucking out of touch and unwilling to get your pristine white robes dirty.
You’re as big a coward as whatever God you serve!
” I scream at him. “Neither of you are willing to take accountability!”
He reaches out for me, but I shake his hand off.
“Don’t touch me. I obviously disgust you. Or are you so pissed off because God didn’t give you permission to fuck me? To kiss me? To want me? Are you that much of an obedient bitch that doing what you want without permission is a sin?!”
“This isn’t about God!”
“Then why are you rejecting me?!” I yell. “We have a matter of days left and you’re so focused on being punished by some invisible man in the sky that you’re willing to suffer instead of having me! And don’t say you don’t want me. I’ve seen exactly how much you do.”
He doesn’t say anything, but at least has enough remorse to actually show it.
I look up so he can’t tell I’m close to crying.
Best sex of my life, man I’m sure understands me, sees me, actually respects me, and I get the same disappointing, shameful end as the other times I’ve acted on my feelings.
“Is obedience so much better than me?” I ask softly. “Am I so dirty, useless, angry, loud … too ruined to actually be desired and appreciated? Hmm? So ruined and broken that not even an angel – a being that’s supposed to love and protect and guide – wants to touch me?”
I bite my bottom lip. We can’t have a relationship in an apocalypse, that’s insane.
Still, I thought I meant something to him.
The panic in his voice when I ran last time.
The way he switched to my schedule. How he’s been gentle even when I haven’t been.
The way he’s listened and adjusted how he touched me, approached me, all of it …
“You’re not dirty, useless, or too ruined. You’re loud to get your point across. You’re angry because of what you’ve been through. Of course, I appreciate you,” he insists.
I scoff. “Yeah. Being called a mistake and insinuating that you only wanted me because Lust bit you is a real display of appreciation.”
When I turn to look at him, he’s out of bed and still entirely naked. I stare at his feet instead of the rest of him. I don’t need to be reminded of what I’ve enjoyed. I don’t need any demonstration that he’s leagues better than me.
Wingless or not, he’s divine and I’m dirt.
“If it was just obedience, just a sin I could brush off, it would be different. It’s more important. You don’t understand the stakes, and you shouldn’t have to. It shouldn’t be on your shoulders,” he says, voice firm, but not angry.
“Backtracking is just so hot,” I say sarcastically.
I shake my head and take a step back. “I’ve heard it all before.
It was a mistake. You were out of it. You would have slept with anyone.
It didn’t mean anything and I’m the stupid one for reading into it.
I’ve heard it all. I just thought you were better, Suriel.
At least you made me cum, right? At least I enjoyed it. ”
“It wasn’t-”
“I said yes. I’m not accusing you of-”
“Charlie. I’m not supposed to sin. I gave in to lust. When I sin, I lose my abilities, there are consequences. It’s nothing to do with you. What I feel - If I was to sin, it would only be for you, whether that makes sense or not. I-”
“So I’m still the bad one, right? For tempting an angel? Because I’m the woman who didn’t listen to your command? Bet that goes back to Eve, right?” I demand.
“I’m trying to explain,” he hisses, even though his face is white.
“You don’t want me. You won’t choose me. Even though I’m basically the last girl on earth. You lied to me the entire time we were tangled up. Because if you meant half the things you said, you wouldn’t be pushing me away. You’d be hugging me, offering me aftercare, something. Anything!”
I give him a second to do any of that. To check in at all. Instead, he just stands there.
His toes curl slightly and he exhales. “I don’t … I don’t regret what we did, just … how it happened. I can’t explain everything, the ramifications. It doesn’t mean nothing, but the words-”
“‘Not nothing’ doesn’t mean enough,” I hiss, pushing his hand off me. “You’re right. Just stay up here until you’re back to your normal apathetic self. I wouldn’t want to have the apocalypse and a ruined angel to handle.”