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After all was said and done, Byron would make the trek to his little home before the forest. War time had come and gone, and Byron wanted to get his life on track now. It wasn’t unusual for Byron to be alone at this time, Byron didn’t really know anymore, nor did he have a family to speak of.
It was distant from where people typically lived, but it was good for Byron. He was more of a lone-wolf, and honestly he knew better than to get close to anyone.
But that priest…
Byron pushed past the thought, it wasn’t important—Clemens wasn’t important. But, it lingered, what was so special about this priest that made Byron so desperate to keep him around..?
Byron shakes the thought off, it didn’t matter. Byron would now return to his distant life where he watched over humans from a safe distance.
Finally Byron reached his little shack, which was basically a wood slab with a roof meticulously placed atop. He didn’t bother with food, there wasn’t a point in feeding yourself when you’re not exactly human. Byron found himself going over to the corner of his giant room, just to jump on the bed and pull a single ragged blanket over himself. Was the sleeping part even necessary? Well, there wasn’t much to do at this time besides drinking, and Byron wasn’t exactly a drinker.
Byron just closed his eyes and tried drifting off, tomorrow he’d have another chance at a human life.
Ah but it was Sunday… and Byron avoided praying like the plague, really the only good thing about going to church would be his priest friend, and he already had doubts.
I saved him all those years ago. Byron reminded himself of when he had barely known Clemens. What compelled me to do that..?
Maybe it was the fact that Clemens extended his kindness out despite Byron’s cold attitude? Or maybe Byron had finally made a friend? Or was it something inside Clemens' very human soul?
Byron hated thinking about someone who shouldn’t matter so often, but how could Clemens not matter? He was so different from most people, he wasn’t even human anymore. If it wasn’t for Byron, Clemens would be gone…
Poor Byron shifted to his side, hoping that changing how he laid he’d fall asleep quicker. He hummed himself a lullaby, reminding him of his “youth”. Before he fell to Earth, singing hymns with other angels was just so normal. It was almost embarrassing to regress to that stage in his life before he lost his affinity for religion. Nobody would understand this side of Byron, and he wanted to keep it that way…
Byron’s thoughts had now pushed away from his somberly past, now they were filled with thoughts of soft clouds and the song of cherubs. A gentle smile slowly appeared on Byron’s face, before he knew it his wings had shifted out, covering his body like a perfect feathered blanket.
Byron felt himself slowly falling asleep, and then at ease. Dreams were an escape from humanity, and a return to divinity, something Byron wished he didn’t still long for.
Was that why he was so attached to Clemens..?
Byron let out a frustrated sigh. Under his breath, he mumbled. “Everything I do, why does it always lead back to you?”
Byron sat up, feathers flying as he moved. Maybe he should go see Clemens. Really, the most sensible thing to do when someone is stuck in your mind is to see them. Right? The man sighed, and looked down at his hands.
“Love is a human emotion, and I’m not a human.” Byron reminded himself. But, to Clemens' knowledge he was technically a human. After a few years, maybe Clemens deserved to know better. Clemens didn’t deserve a friend who wasn’t being dishonest about who they were. Byron stood up, and swiftly left his tiny home, heading straight towards the church.
The walk was dreadful, seeing as Byron hated the idea of religious practice. He knew better than to worship a god who would never recognize those who worship, in the end god was a creator who didn’t bear love for its creations. And there was a huge chance that Clemens didn’t want him around so late.
Finally, Byron arrived at the church. He gently knocked at the door, then stepped back awaiting a response. Just a few moments later, the door opened and a familiar priest stood smiling.
“Ah, Byron, it’s unusual for you to show up at this hour.” Clemens started, cocking his head curiously. Byron chuckled.
“I thought of you,” I couldn’t stop thinking of you. “So I came to visit.” Byron’s usually neutral expression softened, and he showed a rare smile. Clemens had been the only one to ever see this sight, and now on multiple occasions.
“Aw, so I was in your heart after all.” Clemens teased in an almost flirtatious manner, Byron rolled his eyes. “Come inside, allow me to pour you some tea.”
“Ah, no.. please, you really don’t need to offer me anything. I could never ask anything of you, considering you won that bet.”
“That was just some years ago, wasn’t it? Now, how long do you believe you’ll behave this way to me.”
“As long as I am by your side—which will be eternity.” Clemens only laughed at Byron’s response, taking it as a joke.
Clemens moved to the side, allowing Byron to enter.
The room was structured exactly as a church usually would be, the walls were made of stone, purple drapes depicting the lord. Though, the lights were off, which barely came as a surprise to Byron. Byron felt off just being there, but he sucked it in. The man sat down on one of the pews, and folded his hands gently in his lap.
“Would it be appropriate for me to make a confession at this hour?” Byron asked, his face returning to its usual somberness.
“You can tell me anything, Byron. I’ve heard and seen a lot, but whatever it is wouldn’t make me hate you.” Clemens sat down, turning most of his body to face Byron. The two made direct eye contact, in embarrassment Byron looked down. It was so clear that Clemens' eyes were yellow, reminding Byron of citrine. I miss his blue eyes, honestly. Byron thought to himself, a warm feeling flooding his entire body.
“I feel like I’ve been lying to you these past few years.” It wasn’t the best way to start, it wasn’t even close to it. “I have rose markings on my chest.”
“You know I would never judge you for being a Black Rose disease patient. You know I am one too..” Clemens' face was still smiling, it was true he had Black Rose Disease too. He made no efforts to hide the black rose markings along his neck. Byron clenched his hands, feeling them become sweaty.
“No.. my markings aren’t exactly black. They're red—“ Byron pulled his shirt away from his chest for a moment so Clemens could see. Clemens blinked. “I’ll say it plainly, I am an archangel.”
“Oh..?” Clemens didn’t entirely seem shocked. “I sensed an air of divinity from you, but..”
“But..?”
“I know that’s not what’s really what’s on your mind right now.” Clemens chuckled. “I’ve known you so long, Byron, you can’t get past me. You’re even avoiding eye contact.” Byron sighed. It was true, Clemens knew exactly how to read him.
“…You’re right, fine. I just feel like I’m finally experiencing human emotions, but it’s wrong. I’m experiencing the wrong human emotions.” Byron’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s not wrong to feel like that, Byron.” Clemens smiled softly. “If you’re trying to live as a human, this is a part of it.”
I guess he’s right. He’s always right. Maybe that’s why…
“Me feeling human emotions is the only reason you’re alive, if I didn’t—“ If I didn’t love you. “If I didn’t form an emotional attachment to you, you’d be gone.” Clemens could only gently laugh, placing a hand over Byron’s. Byron looked up at his face again, holding eye contact now.
“Do you regret it?” Clemens asked, teasingly.
“No..” Silentness filled the air for moments. I think… I want you. “Clemens, I miss your blue eyes.” Byron said under his breath.
“Hm? You remember that still?” Clemens asked, giggling. “It’s almost as if you’ve been in love with me all these years.”
“Oh, shush. I’m just not used to the yellow yet.” Byron rolled his eyes, but he finally smiled again.
“Your eyes are very yellow too, Sir Archangel.” Clemens stifled a laugh. Clemens was always this way with Byron, and Byron was starting to finally show his true self to his dear “friend”
…maybe he could settle for these “human emotions”, they were warm and nice.
It was late, the air around the two was cool and crisp, but the insides of Byron’s heart was warm. It’s almost as if God had responded to his prayers for once, and finally gave him someone to challenge his self-isolation and distance.
Maybe I truly love Clemens after all.