Random Tidbit; The Shouting Match
Because God forbid I could write in any specific order. Probably from the middle of the book, when Gabe and Cix finally start to get along. Maybe... the beginning of the middle. Yeah.
And, of course, Michael is just an asshole throughout this entire thing. I assure you that whatever this argument ends up as, he definitely started it. Bastard.
"You're just a daemon," Michael said derisively, looking down at me with a contemptuous expression on his face that I'd never seen before. "What do you know of loyalty? You can't understand my family."
I had nothing to say to that. I should have-- I was angry enough-- but to hear something like that from a man I used to love was just too much. It felt like I'd been punched in the stomach, and tears filled my eyes. I was ready to turn and run when something interrupted my flight.
"I don't see how you could say that," came a mild, reprimanding voice behind me. I turned around to see Gabe, of all people, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "Cix is a person too."
Gabriel did not just say that.
I was no longer crying. In fact, I was no longer anything but incredulous... and very, very suspicious. What was he doing defending me? He was an angel, my enemy, and a bastard to boot. I wondered if he were making fun of me and narrowed my eyes at him, my voice thick and petulant.
"You don't have to taunt me too, Gabe," I hissed, and stood up. "It's bad enough I have to listen to him." I pointed angrily at Michael, and he took a step forward.
"Stay there, Michael," Gabe said in that same calm voice. "Leave her alone."
I lost it. "You both leave me alone!" I screeched, and promptly threw a tantrum. It had been the worst three days of my life, and I still had seven more to look forward to, seven days of ridicule and the fear of failure. I was on the verge of tears again, angry, furious tears, and I grabbed the closest thing at hand. Ironically enough, it happened to be the little bible kept on the bedside table of every hotel. "Fuck you! I hate you! I hate you both!"
The book hit Michael square in the chest.
"You little bitch," he growled, and advanced on me. I stood my ground. "How dare you."
"Watch me dare!" I challenged back, and made a face at him. "And you're right, I don't understand your family, because you're father's an overbearing pompous bastard just like you, and your mom thinks she's fucking Martha Stewart, but I know she's an alcoholic and your sister's slept with every--"
"CIX!" And then he slapped me. That fucking asshole slapped me! It hurt, but not nearly as much as he was going to hurt once we'd finally finished this drag-down, knock-down fight.
I was a few inches away form leaping on him like a wildcat when someone beat me to it. Michael staggered back from a blow to the face, and then Gabe grabbed me around the waist and tugged me back. I didn't want to stop, by Satan I didn't, and he had to lift my feet off the ground to keep me from running forward.
"No, Cix," he whispered in my ear, and I tried to hit him too. "FUCK YOU!"
That sentiment was echoed when Michael reappeared in my field of vision with a rapidly swelling eye. "Gabriel!"
"Yes, Michael?" Good God. How did he stay so calm? I was struggling and kicking in his grasp and he acted like it was nothing, no strain in his voice nor effort in his hold. "What is it?"
"You hit me!"
"And you hit Cix," Gabe pointed out, and tightened his arm around me. "You should not hit women."
Michael's face was turning dark red, in addition to the purple around his eyes. "You heard what she said to me! And it's not like she matters! What do you care?"!
"Cix is a person too," Gabe repeated, and wrapped his other arm around me. Now it was less restraint and more like a hug, and I stopped squirming, unsure of whether to be disgusted or comforted. "Apologize."
"I will not."
Gabe's voice hardened. "Apologize, Archangel Michael, or I will be forced to report that you have broken the anti-violence clause of The Rule."
Anti-violence clause? What the Hell? I would have asked, but Gabe was for some reason protecting me, and right now I really didn't want ot make him angry at me too. Instead of interrupting, I fit myself closer against him, and saw in Michael's expression something I'd never expected to see again. Jealousy.
"Why should I--" "Apologize!" Gabe said, imperious now, and I shivered. Michael swallowed hard.
"I am sorry for striking you, Cix," he said stiffly, and then glared at Gabe before turning and stalking from the room. We both watched the door slam and listened to his footsteps echo down the hall, and when they were gone my shoulders slumped.
"Are you okay, Cix?" I nodded, but only weakly, and Gabe turned me in his arms and pressed me to his chest. I was too surprised to resist, and tried not to pull away when he reached up and slowly stroked my hair. "Are you sure?"
"No," I blurted out, then blushed so hard I thought my face was on fire. Gabe continued to pet my hair, but I pushed him away and looked down at the floor in embarassment, uncertain what to do or say.
Gabe leaned over until I could see his face, even staring at the floor like I was. I tried to look away and he moved, smiling broadly at me. "Did you see his black eye?"
I giggled unwillingly. "Yeah." He laughed too, and my eyebrows furrowed as I stared at his face now instead. He realized I was watching him and lifted an eyebrow. "What?"
His moustache. It was gone.
"You shaved your Hitler-stache!" He blinked and ran a hand over his mouth and chin. "I guess I did," he said with mock surprise, and then grinned with the most sly, teasing smirk I'd ever seen. "You said you hated the Hitler moustache." His smirk grew. "Do you like it now?"
Strangely enough, I did. And then, with his face so close to mine, I had the disturbing and untimely thought that Gabe was... handsome. He had dark eyes with long lashes, and full, kissable li--
EWWWW. This was Gabriel I was thinking about!
"Gross!" I squealed out loud, and he blinked again and straightened up. "What's gross?" he asked, puzzled, and I made a complicated gesture with my hands and backed away. "It's... uh... you're Gabriel," I managed at last, by way of explanation, and bolted abruptly for the door. "Uh, thanks."
And, of course, Michael is just an asshole throughout this entire thing. I assure you that whatever this argument ends up as, he definitely started it. Bastard.
"You're just a daemon," Michael said derisively, looking down at me with a contemptuous expression on his face that I'd never seen before. "What do you know of loyalty? You can't understand my family."
I had nothing to say to that. I should have-- I was angry enough-- but to hear something like that from a man I used to love was just too much. It felt like I'd been punched in the stomach, and tears filled my eyes. I was ready to turn and run when something interrupted my flight.
"I don't see how you could say that," came a mild, reprimanding voice behind me. I turned around to see Gabe, of all people, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. "Cix is a person too."
Gabriel did not just say that.
I was no longer crying. In fact, I was no longer anything but incredulous... and very, very suspicious. What was he doing defending me? He was an angel, my enemy, and a bastard to boot. I wondered if he were making fun of me and narrowed my eyes at him, my voice thick and petulant.
"You don't have to taunt me too, Gabe," I hissed, and stood up. "It's bad enough I have to listen to him." I pointed angrily at Michael, and he took a step forward.
"Stay there, Michael," Gabe said in that same calm voice. "Leave her alone."
I lost it. "You both leave me alone!" I screeched, and promptly threw a tantrum. It had been the worst three days of my life, and I still had seven more to look forward to, seven days of ridicule and the fear of failure. I was on the verge of tears again, angry, furious tears, and I grabbed the closest thing at hand. Ironically enough, it happened to be the little bible kept on the bedside table of every hotel. "Fuck you! I hate you! I hate you both!"
The book hit Michael square in the chest.
"You little bitch," he growled, and advanced on me. I stood my ground. "How dare you."
"Watch me dare!" I challenged back, and made a face at him. "And you're right, I don't understand your family, because you're father's an overbearing pompous bastard just like you, and your mom thinks she's fucking Martha Stewart, but I know she's an alcoholic and your sister's slept with every--"
"CIX!" And then he slapped me. That fucking asshole slapped me! It hurt, but not nearly as much as he was going to hurt once we'd finally finished this drag-down, knock-down fight.
I was a few inches away form leaping on him like a wildcat when someone beat me to it. Michael staggered back from a blow to the face, and then Gabe grabbed me around the waist and tugged me back. I didn't want to stop, by Satan I didn't, and he had to lift my feet off the ground to keep me from running forward.
"No, Cix," he whispered in my ear, and I tried to hit him too. "FUCK YOU!"
That sentiment was echoed when Michael reappeared in my field of vision with a rapidly swelling eye. "Gabriel!"
"Yes, Michael?" Good God. How did he stay so calm? I was struggling and kicking in his grasp and he acted like it was nothing, no strain in his voice nor effort in his hold. "What is it?"
"You hit me!"
"And you hit Cix," Gabe pointed out, and tightened his arm around me. "You should not hit women."
Michael's face was turning dark red, in addition to the purple around his eyes. "You heard what she said to me! And it's not like she matters! What do you care?"!
"Cix is a person too," Gabe repeated, and wrapped his other arm around me. Now it was less restraint and more like a hug, and I stopped squirming, unsure of whether to be disgusted or comforted. "Apologize."
"I will not."
Gabe's voice hardened. "Apologize, Archangel Michael, or I will be forced to report that you have broken the anti-violence clause of The Rule."
Anti-violence clause? What the Hell? I would have asked, but Gabe was for some reason protecting me, and right now I really didn't want ot make him angry at me too. Instead of interrupting, I fit myself closer against him, and saw in Michael's expression something I'd never expected to see again. Jealousy.
"Why should I--" "Apologize!" Gabe said, imperious now, and I shivered. Michael swallowed hard.
"I am sorry for striking you, Cix," he said stiffly, and then glared at Gabe before turning and stalking from the room. We both watched the door slam and listened to his footsteps echo down the hall, and when they were gone my shoulders slumped.
"Are you okay, Cix?" I nodded, but only weakly, and Gabe turned me in his arms and pressed me to his chest. I was too surprised to resist, and tried not to pull away when he reached up and slowly stroked my hair. "Are you sure?"
"No," I blurted out, then blushed so hard I thought my face was on fire. Gabe continued to pet my hair, but I pushed him away and looked down at the floor in embarassment, uncertain what to do or say.
Gabe leaned over until I could see his face, even staring at the floor like I was. I tried to look away and he moved, smiling broadly at me. "Did you see his black eye?"
I giggled unwillingly. "Yeah." He laughed too, and my eyebrows furrowed as I stared at his face now instead. He realized I was watching him and lifted an eyebrow. "What?"
His moustache. It was gone.
"You shaved your Hitler-stache!" He blinked and ran a hand over his mouth and chin. "I guess I did," he said with mock surprise, and then grinned with the most sly, teasing smirk I'd ever seen. "You said you hated the Hitler moustache." His smirk grew. "Do you like it now?"
Strangely enough, I did. And then, with his face so close to mine, I had the disturbing and untimely thought that Gabe was... handsome. He had dark eyes with long lashes, and full, kissable li--
EWWWW. This was Gabriel I was thinking about!
"Gross!" I squealed out loud, and he blinked again and straightened up. "What's gross?" he asked, puzzled, and I made a complicated gesture with my hands and backed away. "It's... uh... you're Gabriel," I managed at last, by way of explanation, and bolted abruptly for the door. "Uh, thanks."