Demon Turned Lover [BxB]

Bitten apple

          Blood twined round his fingers as he stood in the pocket of space, that he shared with the inert body, gushing. The people he knew, prized, foregathered steps away. Horror was white in many of their bodies. But the one thing orthodox in their faces? Helena's grey eyes narrowed at the scene, her air of revulsion spreading afield. Disgust. Kallista turned away from him, hate apprehending her once soft features. Disgust. Mikkel's eyes enlarged at him and the body, ponds of azure no longer shy to lambast. Disgust. Adona curled her upper lip, nose raised. Disgust. Ezekiel stared at him, golden eyes voicing words he wished to yell.

          "This, is what you deserve."

          With a sudden breath sucked in, Luka was jogged from his sleep. Again, the brunet thought. He looked to his left, as fingers cradled the arm on his stomach for solace. Mammon's eyes flapped open at his irregular breaths, and instantly knew what had betided him.

          "It happened again...huh?" he rasped, arms programmed to clinch him. The raven-haired pecked his forehead, fingers unsnarling the knots of his head.

          "Yeah..."

          Like incisors sunk into ripe apples, that dream never left him—rather her body. Hours, days, months, seasons; they would all pass, and now he arose in July, but his mind would forever remain in that day. During the light hours, Luka could find peace from the sun, yet at night, it seemed that the moon could but give him that clemency.

         That burning feeling, was fanned when he came under the eyes of the archangels, in the Court of Choiruo. A place for the unruly, and anarchic—a place he never, thought he would be. Luka was put on a circular stand, a four-pointed star beneath him. Empty seats wound along the tall ceiling, white columns sourcing below. Seven mighty pedestals, fluted gold and presenting biblical images, environed him. Ezekiel, was beside his father's column and stared at him with open eyes, as the seven acclaimed angels—Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Jophiel, Camael and Zadkiel—perched before him.

          Robes of red, blue, gold and purple silk draped over their broad shoulders. Aureate halos shone behind their heads. Both the cherub, and the throne, looked like children compared to their lofty stature—even their wings could shade thousands.

          "Luka of Isaac," a deep voice, Michael's, announced. It echoed throughout the court, and his tingling ears. Luka bowed his head and wings instantly, as if the weight of his voice amassed at his skull. "You have been summoned before our Lord, tell us why."

          The brunet could feel a broiling heat on his scalp, but a comfort it was. "I...have killed a mortal, when my purpose is to protect."

          Words in a language he could not understand, were thrown around him.

          "Action is shadowed by reason. Tell us why you did it, child." It was Raphael, eyes an idyllic navy with galaxies expanding in them, and brown hair flowing to his shoulders. Silent children played at his sandalled feet.