The Angel In Us

Chapter 33

****I'M GOING TO UNDERLINE  ZACHARIEL'S TELEPATHY AGAIN FOR THIS CHAPTER AND THE NEXT, TO AVOID CONFUSION.... ENJOY!

On Sundays, we wear white. But today, I'm telling the truth. I chuckle, the truth. The truth no one will believe.

'What the hell do I wear?'
Anything but white.
'I don't understand...'

I chuckle, but don't respond.

In one hour, Zachariel will arrive. I turn the shower on and hop in, quickly running shampoo through my hair, and scrubbing my body.

I blow dry my hair into waves, and then pull out my outfit for today: a black t-shirt dress, with knee high black boots to match.

I throw my outfit on, and head downstairs, just as the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" I yell.

My parents walk in, frowning. "Who is at the door on Sunday?" I chuckle, opening the door.

"You made it," I whisper. He nods nervously. He took the earrings out of his ears, causing me to laugh.

I turn to my parents, eyeing their shocked faces as the look between my wings, to his.

"Mom, Dad, this is Zachariel- my Soulmate."

If possible, their eyes widen at the word Soulmate. My dad snaps out of it first, offering his hand, although warily.

"Very nice to meet you, Zachariel... I'm Donerian, but you can call me Don. This is my wife Toniria, you can call her Toni."

My mother manages a curt smile, nodding her head. My father turns to his wife, "Shall we?"

On our way to the car, my mother comes to my side. "How dare you? You know we wear white on Sunday. You and your... boyfriend should be ashamed of yourselves."

I chuckle. "Oh, Mother, if only you knew."

Zachariel shoots me a warning look, hearing our conversation through the open channel of our telepathy.

We both keep the channel open so I can save him from any... unpleasant conversations.

When we arrive at the restaurant, my parents sit side by side, my father at the head of the table, Mother to his left, and I sit alongside Zachariel.

'This is going to be hell... why'd you bring me here again?

To meet them, trust me, they want to meet you. He looks between my parents.

'Wow, really? Never would've guessed...'

The waiter comes to take our drink order. My parents both order liquor, no doubt to wash away their sorrows. Zachariel orders water, as per usual, and I order wine, to spite my parents.

'God forbid we have children like you...'

It's all I can do not to laugh out loud. God forbid our children meet someone pure.

He chuckles quietly beside me. "So, Don, What is it you do?" He asks. My father looks up in alarm.

"Oh... yes, I um... I'm a teacher at an elementary school. I teach third grade."

"Oh, wow. That's awesome. Children annoy the-" he coughs to catch himself. "Excuse me. I just find children very... loud."

I cover my face with my hand in embarrassment. Jesus, Zachariel.

What?! I'm not used to filtering myself.

I chuckle. Obviously.

"And, what about you, Toni?"

She blinks at him blankly for a moment before my father undoubtedly clues her in on what she's been asked.

"Oh, same as Don," she mutters.

When the waiter arrives with her drink, she couldn't be more eager to get her hands on it, almost downing it immediately.

I sip my wine, glancing at Zachariel.

'Alcoholic father, remember? I only drink water.'

Oh, yea... I push my wine glass back a bit, ordering a water with my meal.

'You didn't have to do that, My Angel.'

I wanted to. I don't want to be anything like your father.

'You're nothing like him, Love.'

Once the meals arrive, everyone digs in to avoid more awkward conversing. After a while, my mother slams her silverware down.

"I can't do this anymore. You," she points a finger at Zachariel, "what did you do to my daughter? Huh?"

He stares at her, mouth agape, unsure of what to say.

I put my own silverware down and take a breath. "Mother, he didn't do anything to me. I did it myself."

She turns to face me. "You will speak when spoken to."

I can feel the anger radiating through Zachariel, although concealed. I glance at him to find his expression guarded once more.

It's okay, calm down. I can handle this, just let me do the talking okay?

He doesn't respond, too busy trying to control his emotions. I look at my mother with extreme calm and patience. "No. He has nothing to do with this."

She glares daggers at me. "Then explain to me, please. What has gotten into you?"

I chuckle coldly. "The truth, Mother. The truth has gotten into me." Zachariel, amidst all his anger, warns me telepathically. I shoot it away. "Pull out your phone. Google 'miracles' or 'prayers answered'. If you would've done that 600 years ago, you'd see miracles left and right, without even googling them. Now? Nothing. Do you want to know why, Mother? Because we're alone. He's gone. He dumped us off with his failed creations, and took off to start over." I use the very words Zachariel used to describe this to me.

He closes his eyes, anger subsided.

"And I can prove it to you," I say.

Zachariel turns to me sharply. "That's enough, Cienna." I don't meet his gaze.

"No. She needs to know, before she judges me- especially before she judges you." I direct my attention to my mother again. "If you still believe in him, you'll understand that this," I motion between Zachariel and me, "this is 'Gods plan' for me. For us."

Tears stream down my mother's face. "You have the Devil in you, Cienna," she whispers.

My heart drops. "No, Mom. Please, let me prove to you I'm not crazy, or cursed by the Devil. Please, let me prove to you we really are alone in this world."

My father snaps out of his silence. "How?"

I shake my head. "I can't explain it, you can only see it for yourself. But it has to be in the day time."

He's quiet for a while. "Fine. Take us tomorrow morning, I'll put in an excused absence in for you at school."