The Fallen Angel

Chapter 34: Azrael

"You mean Genie? She's your servant, not your friend."

I winced at the blatant line he had drawn between her and me.

If I were being honest, I didn't like it one bit.

"She was Elisabetta's servant, not mine. In my world, Genie has been my friend for as long as I can remember. I don't need you or anyone else to tell me otherwise."

His mouth twitched; the only part that seemed to be reactive to my responses. "You still have that spunk in you. I see nothing much as changed."

"Except the hair color."

"This shade actually suits you much better."

"Really? Cupid begs to differ."

He bit his tongue very hard not to laugh. I could see it from where I stood as his eyes were glistening.

"You and him never really did have the best relationship. Like Tom and Jerry if you may compare it to such an earthly thing."

I wasn't even surprised that he knew Cupid if he was within this circle.

"Apparently, but I see it was never the same for us."

The smoothness of our chatter came to an abrupt halt.

His eyes settled into a puddle of sadness he couldn't mask anymore.

"I guess you could say so. Elisabetta was my most beloved friend."

Hearing him admit to it whilst making it clear again that it wasn't "us" had me feeling like such an outsider again. Everyone remembered things—fond memories—that I couldn't and it made me feel like the laughingstock of their world.

Why was it that when I have to take the heat for her past actions they put a name tag onto me yet when it came to the good sentiments it got torn off like an undeserving badge?

"I can assume that you were very startled when you saw me then. You probably thought I was her, didn't you?"

He leant against the wall calmly, instantly realizing this was no short conversation.

Azrael faltered for a moment at the straightforward question. "I did for a split second. Then I saw the look in your eyes and knew you could never be her."

"The look in my eyes?"

"Untainted, unscathed..." His eyes took me in and appeared to run across every feature of my face.

It made me uncomfortable because of how upset he seemed by what he was seeing.

"If you went through even half of what she did, you wouldn't have that look in your eyes—the clarity and pureness that you do. You see, Elisabetta's outlook on the world has been soiled a long time ago."

Somehow, I felt my heart break at that.

"What happened to her?"

It was like nobody could really explain what had made her become the bad person everyone painted her out to be. The version I met in the mirror was someone that gave me the chills—literally. She was cold and unforgiving. I hated the way she talked and the way she looked at me.

He was right about her eyes, I recalled as I had fitfully done since the day I saw her. They had been defiled.

"I take it Angelo hasn't told you about her," he started off pointedly. "That's odd. Everyone that is around him knows though. Then again, I understand his desperation. It's hard even for me to picture the two of you together after everything that has happened."