Purgatory

Chapter 4

I had been staying in Luke's penthouse for a little over a week. Luckily, I managed to avoid any more bubble bath episodes, but I did nearly burn down the kitchen at one point. Let's just say I was banned from the kitchen until further notice and it is a very good thing the kitchen was made with fireproof materials.

I was trying to do this thing called yoga. Apparently it was popular on earth but personally I could not see why. It was so stupid and boring and I couldn't think of any way it could be of use to me. I would rather be working on my fighting skills rather than The Squatting Dog or whatever the hell they called the stupid things.

I was laying flat on my back with my eyes closed listening to what was called Devour the Day when all of a sudden my precious music was ripped from my ears.

"Hey!" I yelled at the evil being standing over me, "Give it back! You're ruining my concentration."

Luke laughed at my outburst and my childish act of crossing my arms over my chest with a pout.

"You are a big meany you know that?" I insult him, "Nothing but a big, fat butthole!"

There! Take that! I laugh to myself.

"Angel, I'm pretty sure we both know I'm not fat. Big yes. But fat is a definite no," he winks at me, "But I also know this does not look like your yoga lesson."

I smack a hand over his mouth to keep him from talking. Giving him a nice surge while I was at it.

"Actually, it is technically yoga," I retort, "It is called the Corpse Pose. Look it up on your Interwebs, Sherlock."

He pushes my hand away with a sigh, "It's called the internet. Not Interwebs, Smarty Pants."

I pull myself off the ground and begin to walk to the kitchen. I know I was banned but I really wanted some of those cheese stick thingies. I had watched Luke make them every night so I was sure I could do it myself. Especially if I did it before Luke found out I was in here.

I grabbed the cheese and the beer batter he had already mixed up. I turned on the stove before I realized I forgot the pan. I looked up at the cabinet  above the stove where the pans were kept realizing it was a little to high for me. I turn off the stove so I could use it as a lift. As I was reaching for the pan, my supporting handed rested on the hot burner.

I screamed as I quickly lifted my hand off the burner. I fell back words pulling down the stack of pots and pans with me. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for my impending doom but for some reason I never hit the ground. I heard all the pans slam on floor. I crack an eye open to see the evil being above me yet again. 

Luke did not look like a happy camper.

He whisked me out of the kitchen and brought me to the couch, the muscle in his jaw very tense. I poked the muscle, earning a growl from him causing me to jerk my hand back.

"Don't bite me!" I squeal, trying to squirm out of his arms.

I landed with a soft thud on the carpet before I ran down the hall. I turned around a corner where I saw a big door. I quickly slipped inside the room. It looked like a study. The walls where filled to the ceiling with books. A large desk sat in the middle and there was a large armoire off to the side. 

I quickly slipped into the armoire, rather please with my hiding spot. Only then did I realize how much my hand hurt. I held it up to the faint light coming in from between the cabinet doors. There was blood and the burn extended halfway up my forearm.

I let out a small whimper as the wound began to pulsate around the edges and slowly heal.

I could hear the door of the study slam open and foot steps quickly head towards my hiding spot. The doors swung open and a very angry Luke looked around the cubby but for some reason he did not see me. I didn't understand why. His face was inches from mine but he acted as though I did not exist. I looked down and not even I could see me.

"Angel, where are you?" he asked, "I know you are in here. I can sense it."

He says. I try to sink back further into the armoire but to no avail. Suddenly I notice my body begin to flicker back into view.

At first Luke looks a little take aback but he quickly regains his former anger.

"What do you think you were doing?" He all but shouts at me. His warm breath smelled like sweet mint.

"Well, you see I was quietly sitting in this here armoire, minding my own business, before all of a sudden- "

"No!" he yells at me his eyes darker than usual and his muscles ridged, "What do you think you were doing in the kitchen again?"

I look at him a moment before I came up with a response.

"Call me a masochist, but..." I trailed on, "you are really hot when you're mad."

My eyes instantly widened. Did I seriously just say that to him? That was not at all what I had planned to say.

"I- I mean I wanted some cheese sticks?" I asked more than I stated.

He seemed a bit shocked too as he let the cabinet doors close.

"Um... I... Well... Maybe..." He stammered, "I think I'm gonna go find the first aid kit."

I awkwardly nodded as he turned around to go. 

"And then I will see about making you some cheese sticks."