t h i r t y t w o

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|ThirtyTwo|

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|ThirtyTwo|


His possessive hold tightened, "Thank you." Lucifer released a whisper of relief and rested his chin on my head. "You just made me the happiest man alive."

Our familiar friend, Silence, joined us. He was welcomed - there was nothing more to be said. 

Separating, after what felt like a pocket of eternity - we walked up the crystal staircase together. Hand in hand.

We reached a sarcastic Aldy at the top. "You two like to drag things out, don't you?" Aldy said, crossing his arms over as we joined the group who were waiting outside a second door.

This one was arched, made from an unknown metal and was engraved with thick, broad swirls which travelled down the beams of the door. Faint markings of some ancient cursive spread out just by the handle only the unknown words were barely visible; not even Lucifer could translate them.

"I'm going to open the door now," Asmodeus said, bringing the attention of the small group back to the door. "Once I open this, there is no going back."

"Well bloody open it then." Raphael retorted, "We've waited long enough."

"Someone put their sassy pants on this evening," Bal smirked and dropped his arm around Raphael's shoulders.

"Get off!" Raphael moaned, kicking Bal sharply in the shin. "Brat."

Asmodeus rolled his eyes at the two's constant squabbling and used the tip of his boot to push the door open. Suprisingly, for a door built from metal, the door opened rather easily.

On the other side, was an open-plan block of nature. Similar in design to the Light Paradox but this open space was blooming with white delicate flowers and blood-red roses. What a combination. Blood and innocence.

But which of the two would spill?

Rushing water from a twisted stream ran through the centre of the courtyard, leading from an impressively designed limestone water fountain.

"Lucifer," I said slowly, noticing the archway of roses growing down the side of the room. "That looks exactly like the plant in your garden."

Lucifer shifted his gaze towards a particular branch of roses growing in a makeshift arch. "That just proves that they've been grooming us."

šš•ššžššŒšš’ššššŽšš›'ššœ ššššŠšš›šš•šš’šš—šš [š™ø]Where stories live. Discover now