1 Corinthians 6:9-10

It had been three days since he’d taken off and abandoned his old life entirely. For the darkness of the cursed wound to have reached its turning point—where shadows prevailed over the light within him. And the first thing he’d done was to go to a witch to put him under protection from tracking spells, knowing Heaven would be searching vigorously for him. Luckily for him, he had their knowledge to his advantage, knowing exactly which techniques they used and how to avoid them.

The hinge of a drawer broke off as he opened it with excessive strength, fumbling with the various fabrics of linen and cotton inside, feeling every pocket for a small tin—a box containing breath mints. Except they weren’t. They were his only remedy to suppressing his aura. The effects had started to wear off last night, and he’d noticed the vast change it created in people. It wasn’t so much an issue in the short run, but it would become one eventually. An angel would recognize it instantly and then it'd be over for him. It wasn’t something he could allow for. He wanted nothing more than for this to last for as long as it possibly could. He had never felt so careless or guilt-free. So light from being lifted from the heavy burden on his shoulders. It was the closest he’d gotten to true happiness in what felt like millennia. But he must have forgotten the tin somewhere. A previous hotel room or a place where he’d lost a jacket. He exhaled sharply and closed the drawers, the top one crashing down onto the bottom one. It was a shame, really. This remote area in Peru had proven to be quite the fun. The villagers had begun to glorify him like some ancient god. Okay, so maybe, he’d shown off with his powers once or twice. Granted a few of their prayers. But damn it if it didn’t feel good to get some attention for once—to not always hide behind his Father, doing all the work for him and getting none of the credit.

He turned his gaze to the living room when he heard someone knocking. Had any of the villagers found his refuge despite his careful precautions? Or had someone finally tracked him down now that his aura had revealed itself? He didn’t sense an angel on the other side of the walls, but there was always the possibility of them being a spy under the suppressants. He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped towards the door, opening it with the expectation of meeting a Peruvian. But instead, he was met with someone almost as ancient as himself. Someone he’d both lived with and fought against. An origin demon. He looked at her with a puzzled gleam in his eyes. Partially expecting her to demand something of him. Partially expecting her to try and smite him. Because what other reason was there for someone like her to approach an archangel? Let alone him. “Are you lost, Lux?” he asked, crossing his arms as he looked her up and down. The embodiment of sexual desires belonged at a party, in the bustle and thrill of a city, so many other places but here.

A low chuckle escaped his lips before his gaze rose to the horizon, making sure she was alone. That her claim to be in the right place didn’t have anything to do with those who were looking for him. Nor those who wished to do him harm. “Really?” Curiosity sparkled in his green irises as he lowered them to her. If it was true, it meant something had led her to him, and although he had a feeling as to what that was, he couldn’t be certain. Ever since he’d fled, he had avoided meeting anyone he knew. He didn’t know just how revealing his taint would be to a demon like her.

He exhaled silently and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “You feel it then?” The change in him. This darkness surrounding the light he’d used to represent. It gave a whole other meaning to as why she was at the right place. To meet the archangel under weakened circumstances. It would be difficult for most demons to pass that opportunity up. “Father has long since abandoned me. Abandoned them.” His lips quivered briefly in anger, in disgust. It wasn’t like him to talk ill of his father, but it wasn’t an outright lie either. Their creator had stopped interfering with Earth as much as he used to, sending the angels down to do his dirty work instead. “And I’m tired of all of it.” She could for one relate to the pressure he’d been put under his whole life. Wasn’t it about high time he let go of that?
He only said it because he knew she’d have nothing to gain from snitching about him to the angels. Nothing to gain from steering him back on the righteous path. And even if she did spread the word, there was nothing he could do about it. Not unless she’d be willing to bargain. “So, yes. I’ve gone.” Far away from all of it. Doing whatever he wanted without the usual guilt weighing down on him.

He tilted his head slightly as he studied her, contemplating. Luxuria was playful by nature. She’d rarely go straight for the attack if there were slower ways. But a part of him thought that maybe she wouldn’t try to get an aim on him. Not at first, at least. That perhaps her intrigue weighed a little more at the moment. “Come in.” He leaned away from the door frame to step back into the cottage, manifesting a soft wind to urge her inside and to ensure that the door would close shut behind her. He strode across the small space to the kitchen, fetching a bottle of Peruvian wine and two glasses. Keeping his side partially turned to her to make sure she wouldn’t try anything. “You must be thirsty from walking all those miles through the jungle.” He figured she’d sensed him from either of the main streets leading into the village and this place was a long way from that. He poured the sparkling wine into the glasses before he closed the distance to her, handing her one of them.

He glanced at her when she lingered by the threshold. The wind lightly caressed her hair. Scanning the interior of the cottage she would notice that there were no demon traps to be found, no holy symbols or weapons pointed her way. She’d also notice that he barely watched her while finding the bottle of wine, relying on his other senses instead. She’d always be a threat to him. He doubted that’d ever change. But his carefreeness made her seem much less of one. The way she said his name drew his attention back to her, her voice captivating him like it would anyone. Alluring and strong in a way that made people want to listen. But when she instead just replied to his request for a drink, he continued to prepare them.  

He noticed the wariness in her eyes once she’d taken the glass from his hand. Not that she had any reason to trust him, but he almost felt a little insulted. He lifted the glass to his lips to take a sip of the wine, proving that he hadn’t poisoned it. He wouldn’t have spiked it with holy water either. It wasn’t something the darkness in him would take lightly. He licked his upper lip to get the remnants of the wine as he lowered the glass. Expecting her to feel safe enough to drink the wine now. He didn’t move as she stated how easy it would be to kill him, he just stared stoically at her, lifting his chin slightly. He didn’t anticipate her making a move but couldn’t disregard the possibility completely. “Easy, hm?” Was that how weakened she’d think he’d gotten? To capture him would be easy, but to kill him, even in this state, it was hard to believe that something finally had reached that deep, to the point where it would end up being his death. An easy one, at that. However, his words were just as much said to challenge her. His eyes stayed with her even as she placed her fingers against his cheek, not helping to tense up at the initial touch. Michael rarely felt a gentle hand against his skin. More often he was used to being beaten or burned. And as much as part of him wanted to move away, it somehow felt natural, like her hand belonged there. Undoubtedly because of her abilities. Because of who she was. And part of him was too stubborn to reveal that her touch did something to him. That it was that easy.  

“It’s the real me.” Yet it was a different version. Someone with changed morals and priorities. “A fool who thought he could fight all the darkness in the world on his own.” His lips curved briefly in the corners. It was the only reason for the corruption to have gotten this bad. Had he just asked for help, he’d been healed from it by now. But he’d been so convinced that just like most things, he would be able to fight it off. “I don’t want to become well, Luxuria,” he admitted. That was why he’d run away. But he didn’t have any interest in hiding away with her to stay unwell. Not if that meant he was going to be trapped and tortured.

She had to know by now that he wasn’t the archangel she knew. But he wanted to make it clear that he still remembered everything. That he hadn’t lost that part of himself.
He’d predicted her to find some amusement in his confession. It was not anything she’d hear him say if the circumstances were different. He was known to never reveal any weaknesses and was trained to pretend that nothing fazed him. To always stay strong in position and faith regardless of what he was put through. But she already knew he’d messed up for letting something like this develop to such a detrimental point, so it wasn’t all that revealing. Besides, he only said it to get her to lower her guards. And it was still the truth. He did feel hatred towards their creator, and he did recognize why the disease had reached this level of darkness. And perhaps a part of him thought he hadn’t been all that foolish for letting it settle if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew they’d find him.

“I know.” He knew hundreds of angels were searching for him as they spoke. That he never would be freed from his responsibilities. And for most of his life, he’d accepted that. But now. The thought of conforming to such obedience and punishment seemed atrocious. So tragic compared to how he’d lived his life these past days. He’d never felt so carefree and relaxed and close to happiness. So damn close to freedom. For once, it didn’t feel against his nature to want to pursue that. And he wanted nothing more than to give in to it. Despite the voices in his head whispering dark urges. Despite the rushes of heat and chill of the illness, and the pain it brought with it. He could live with all of it so long as it meant he could follow his own path.
He stood still when she turned his back to him, contemplating what he should do to her. What her agenda with him was. He took another sip of the wine before furrowing his brows, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. Was an origin demon truly saddened by something like that? Had any care she’d once had for him survived for all these years? The thought seemed absurd. But it did make him wonder if some part of her truly sympathized with his situation, or if she solely found it delightfully suiting considering his strong opinions against her kind.

He approached her quietly as if to look out the window himself when he instead just wanted to get closer to her. “I was planning on leaving tonight to take care of this.” His holy light emanated strongly from his frame, enveloping her with a sense of power and safety, reflecting in the smooth surface of the window. “Can’t very well have more of you origin demons showing up and discover what’s happened to me.” With those words, the light doused, subduing his aura. No, it was best if they believed he had remained his usual self. The strong, merciless, and obedient archangel. A force best refrained from getting too close to.
He looked out at the view of the mountains in the distance before he lowered his gaze to her. He would have probably already been on his way to search for some aura suppressants if she hadn’t shown up. But now that she had. Now that she knew what had happened to him. He had something more important that he needed to deal with. In a swift movement, he grabbed her arms and pinned them in a lock behind her back. He then leaned closer to her ear as he tightened his grip, making it agonizingly uncomfortable for her to make the slightest movement. So much that her bones were at chance of breaking. “That’s why I can’t let you go.” His hands were warm against her, seeping through the fabric, evident of the darkness that coursed through him. The same darkness that told him he had to do this. That told him she was here to take his freedom away. That a demon like her would grab the opportunity to do just that in a heartbeat for her own selfish needs.

He eased his grip on her when he realized she didn’t mind the pain. Torn between doing worse just to hear more of her gasps and moans or refraining because it was the smarter thing to do. “Because most demons would want you to. Because I have murdered countless of your kind. Because I am part of the reason that you’ll never see paradise. And yet, you want me to believe you’ve no interest in harming me?” He’d lie if he said he wasn’t intrigued by it. Sure, there were demons out there who didn’t wish to kill him as much as they wanted to see him suffer. But to not desire either outcome was rare. Perhaps part of her understood that he didn’t have much of a choice in what he did. However, it was far more likely that she didn’t feel hatred towards him because she’d long since come to terms with her new life. Not occupied with the rivalry between angels and demons.
He tensed as she inched closer, the action doing nothing to clear his head from the blurring thoughts of being this near to her. And as if she knew exactly what turned him on, she begged, and he made the mistake of letting his gaze fall to her lips. Making him wonder what they tasted like. If kissing her was as addictive as people said. But instead of giving in, he looked back into her eyes and tried recollecting his thoughts. “Even if what you say is true, I can’t trust that you won’t tell a soul about this.” He had no expectation of her keeping this secret between them. Nor did he believe that she didn’t have an ulterior motive for coming here. “Induce your sin in me if you want. It’s not like that will change how hard it’s always been for me to resist.” He removed his grip on her to instead brush the back of his hand against the side of her body, his gaze following the movement. The other hand was positioned against the wall near her shoulder to keep her from moving away. “After a night of horror and death, all I ever wanted was someone to hold at the end of it.” He scoffed quietly as he thought back on it, at how he now saw the truth for what it was. “Yet I had to abstain from seeking that kind of affection because daddy said so. Because it’ll distract me and make me less useful to him.” How he felt, or what he wanted had never mattered to their creator. If he was injured or had strayed from his path, he just gave him some bullshit about being strong enough to withstand it or punished him to straighten him out. After all, he needed his commander to get back on the battlefield as soon as possible.

He looked deeply into her eyes, trying to catch the lie in her sentence, to know if she only told him what he wanted to hear. Still not trusting that she didn’t have some twisted agenda up her sleeve. But he only sensed honesty in her reply, if not from the blatant way it was said. His lips curled briefly in an approving smirk. He knew that it wasn’t in her interest to help the angels find him. No demon should want that to happen. But word spread quickly, so if she were going to tell others, it’d inevitably speed up the process. Apart from that, she could tell others about his location all she liked. Although it wasn’t ideal, he could deal with demons chasing him a lot more than he could an angel.
He’d likely still tie her up to make sure she wouldn’t follow him, but he might abandon his plans to do worse if she proved to be telling the truth about her lack of interest in harming him. He might even feel generous enough to do nothing if this turned out to be the most fun he’d had since running off.

He drew lazy circles on her waist when she asked him what was holding him back. At that point, he’d been certain that she’d go ahead and induce her sin in him. He was prepared to feel the surge of her power, waiting for her sin to invade his body, and worsen the corruption coursing through his veins. But when it didn’t happen. When she asked him that question. He knew that she wanted him to stay in control. A faint, pleased smile appeared at this. At her allowing him to resist and play games until he couldn’t do it any longer. “I bet you’re used to getting people to do what you want.” He stopped his caressing to place his palm against her waist, then moved it around to her back to pull her with him as he turned to walk towards the couch. Steering her away from the shards of glass on the floor. To be fair, Michael was very much used to the same. Giving orders and having those obeyed. But it didn’t quite compare to her power. Controlling a sin as she did. He removed his hand from her waist while the other hand gripped her shoulder to push her down on the couch. “But without that power, you’re just going to have to play like everyone else.” It wasn’t going to be as easy as walking through the door, for him to give in based on her aura and seductive nature alone. Not if he could help it. Even in his state. Even if none of the women he might sin with during this time would beat sexuality and lust herself. But he didn’t want the encounter to end too soon. That would just be a shame.
He walked across the living space to the dining table, unbuttoning his suit jacket to hang it on the edge of the chair. “I am curious to know.” He adjusted the cuff of his black shirt as he returned his attention to her. “How easy is it for you to resist your own sin?” He had never gotten much of a chance to ask the sins about themselves in such a way, and it did intrigue him to know just how overwhelming it had to be. If they could control it, despite that going against the very concept of tempting people to give in to the sins in the first place. He then walked back to her, stopping next to the coffee table. Needing the distancing in order to keep his head clear around her.