holy

vi

for the first time in his life, eddy found himself experiencing guilt.

it was all his fault—he shouldn't have gone out. he should have stayed with brett and made sure he was actually getting better.

he didn't even know how long brett had been laying there on the floor, passed out. for all he knew, it could have been hours.

guilt twisted his insides. brett could have died, and it would have been all his fault.

eddy bent down, pressing two fingers to the side of his neck to feel his pulse. it was there, but it was weak.

but more importantly, brett's skin was hot, like demon-body-temperature hot, no wonder he was sweating.

eddy picked the angel up off the floor and laid him back on the couch, trying to maneuver around brett's wings, which were losing feathers every time his body moved.

he rushed to the kitchen, soaking a small towel in ice-cold water before wringing out the excess. he returned to brett, kneeling by the couch and brushing the sweaty hair off of his forehead. he laid the towel there and returned to the kitchen, filling a glass with cold water for when brett woke up.

for the next hour, eddy paced around his living room, mind racing to figure out ways to fix brett. he just couldn't understand why the alcohol had made him so ill.

unless it wasn't actually alcohol.

but he had no way of finding out now, because he had killed that stupid bartender. he'd always let his temper get the best of him.

eddy stopped his pacing and picked up one of brett's wing feathers that had fallen to the floor. it was a dull shade of darkening grey and brittle under eddy's soft grasp. eddy snapped the feather in his hand. it was meant to be white.

eddy slumped on the floor next to where brett's head rested on the couch and tugged on his hair in frustration.

brett is going to die, and it'll be all my fault, eddy thought, and i'll be punished by god, satan, and the archangels all at once. might as well say goodbye to earth, goodbye to hell, and goodbye to the violin, because there's no way they won't kill me.

he was shaken from his thoughts by a gasp and the sound of something slamming against the wall.

he looked up, and in a split second it seemed that brett had not only woken up, but had also managed to fly across the room and crash into the corner, sending picture frames to the floor and a flurry of feathers throughout the air.

"glad to see you're alive," eddy said, standing up to move towards brett.

brett was breathing heavily, and pushed himself further into the corner.

"stay away from me," he choked out.

•••

it was a good thing eddy left after nearly choking brett to death, because brett didn't think he could stand to be around the demon for one more second without passing out in fear.

brett was quite young, for an angel at least, and dying at the hands of a demon was the last way he wanted to go out.

as soon as he heard the front door slam shut, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. he brought his hands up to touch the skin where eddy had touched him, wondering why it still tingled with warmth.

he pondered a bit after finally deciding to take a shower, trying to keep the bathroom as clean as possible so that eddy wouldn't be able to tell that he was in there. it obviously wasn't going to work—the steam from the water wafted throughout the bathroom and coated the air with brett's honey-sweet scent. any demon would be able to recognize that smell from a mile away.