HEDOSCHISM: WATTY AWARD WINNER

22 // LUCIFER

I was mere inches from him now, attempting to calm him, to make him realise I wasn't doubting him, because surprisingly, I wasn't. As crazy and as far-fetched as it might have sounded, I did believe him. Sober and lucid, I believed it all. What else could I do when he'd just dragged me through some dimensional worm-hole so far away from everything I knew, and dropped me in an apartment where the beauty of Rome was right outside the window?

His shoulders relaxed a little, the hard lines on his forehead fading, his mouth softening at the edges, but whatever he was thinking, the guard shot back up just as quickly as he'd let it down and he clenched his fists into balls and moved away from me. Grabbing his cigarettes, which he'd left on the arm of the sofa, he took one and lit it, throwing the pack and the lighter back down. Taking a drag, he blew a stream of smoke to one side, his agitated gaze flickering to me.

'Good at doling out therapy but not so great at hearing it yourself, am I right?'

'Is that what you think I'm doing?' I laughed bitterly. 'From the look on your face and the story you've told me, I doubt there's a therapist in the whole world qualified to deal with your problems.'

It was cold and harsh, and I didn't mean it. I really didn't. As soon as the words came tumbling out, I wanted to grab them, pull them back in, shove them down my spiteful throat until I choked.

Sitting down on the edge of the sofa, Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and took another drag, all the time not looking at me.

'Ethan, look, I'm sor...' I began.

'You're not going to say sorry, are you?' he cut in, glancing over, his eyes widening. 'Fuck, Casey. Don't say sorry for that. I threw a punch, you threw one back. It's okay. Besides, you're probably right. What would a therapist say about me, I wonder? Abandonment issues? Borderline alcohol dependent? Misanthropic tendencies?' He shook his head and chuckled. 'Yeah, they'd probably have a field day with me.'

'And I'd probably keep them occupied for their rest of their career,' I said.

'Are we having a competition here on which of us is the most fucked-up?' he said, with a smirk. 'Because I distinctly remember telling you I'm the son of Lucifer and I'm not sure you're going to be able to top that.'

If I closed my eyes then, I knew I'd feel snowflakes on my face and the soft touch of Mr. Tumnus' hand in mine. I knew I'd see the birds in flight. I knew I'd see Maggie's face, her slick grey skin, her eyes half-closed, the needle still hanging from her arm.

'You win,' I said, with a half-smile.

Retreating from the weight of his gaze, I went back towards the table and grabbed two bottles, returning to hand one to him, which he took, offering a smile of his own.

'You're doing nothing to help my borderline alcohol dependency, you know?'

I slumped down onto the chair opposite, pulling my legs up underneath me. 'Do you really expect the woman who's spent the last few years as high as a kite to discourage you from anything?'

'Ah, fair point,' he said. 'Cheers.'

He raised his bottle, and I did the same. Swallowing down a mouthful of beer, I settled back into the chair, letting the silence linger between us. I had a ton of questions. Of course, I did. But the silence was okay. It felt okay. It made me realise that I'd gotten so used to the noise in my life that I couldn't remember what it had been like without it. Maybe I never had lived without it.

It was Ethan that finally broke the spell of silence that bound us.

'You know, when I told Berith that I was putting myself out of the game, he said that it would drive me mad. I remembered his words, thought about it a lot actually. How he said that being alone would be the one thing that would kill me, not the Angels, not Blake, not my own selfish desire to run headlong into any dangerous mishap I might get myself into. He said that, being left with nothing but my own memories, I'd do nothing every day but think of them and that slowly, but surely, I'd go insane from it all.'