A soft hum cushioned my ears from the raucous laughter, the loud phone calls, and those scudding past the two aisles. It was the day before Christmas, and confoundingly, it was busier than ever prior—evident by those ravenously searching for a last minute gift. I dropped the sharpened orange pencils into the red cup before arranging them. (I was surprised Marie hadn't already painted them.) A smile had finally become my companion again. I didn't know how, or why, but I was grateful—perhaps, it was Sol's joyful aura and humour, or Marie's glazed smile, and maybe even these boxed supplies.
I placed the panda sharpeners in the holes of the thin plastic tray, making sure they were all in tandem nicely. I had managed to push away the thoughts of Mammon—but I knew that if I continued like this, the pods of dismay would only grow and soon, burst.
"Luka, I need your angel blessing." I heard the tall demi say, and I stood up.
"My angel blessing?" I laughed. "What for?"
Victor pulled at the sleeve of his leather jacket, "I'm going on a date."
"Isn't this your third one this week?" I gazed at him, fidgeting with the sharpener caught in my fingers.
"Yep, but you know what they say. Third time's a charm, and with your blessing, it'll definitely work out."
How was I supposed to give him a date blessing? I mumbled a small prayer before blowing on his forehead, the strands of black flitting away.
"There." I smiled, "Good luck with your date, you idiot."
"At least this idiot won't be single!"
I chuckled whilst his figure evanesced, and continued with my work, humming away happily.
"Psst Luka."
I picked up the pack of indigo mechanical pencils, and pushed the hole over the white rack.
"Luka!"
I flinched back into astir reality, my head instinctively swerving to the spring of my name. A festive Sol was beckoning me over, discreet in manner, her brown eyes shifting between mine and another. I loped so as to approach her whilst my own perused the line of peach tables to my right—people were seated, drinking from the cups. Nothing appeared askew, so why was she calling me?
"What's wrong?" I propped myself on the side of the counter, lest I was blocking those who wanted to order.
She nudged her chin to one of the tables—the bells of her felted reindeer headband jingling—and my eyes perched on a man. "That's Henri..."
His sandy hair was combed neatly, but a curled purposeful strand reached to his dark brow. His eyes hid behind the thin lenses of his glasses, lost in the winds of the leather book erect in his right hand.
"Age, twenty-seven. Zodiac, Leo. And he has a rottweiler named Björn. Doesn't he just make convection currents rise in your face?" she added, and somehow I didn't react to the ridiculousness of her words. "You know what you should do?"
The white shirt he wore fit to his torso, the top buttons undone.
"What?" There was something strange about him. He was a mortal, like the ones behind him, but there was a winking glamour to him.
"Get his number for me."
The seemingly adamantine chain linking us broke, and I veered my head to her. "Are you crazy? I can't do that!"
"Pleeease Luka! You're my only hope at dating an older man!" Her hands came together to plead, her head dropping to better her act.
First, I had to bestow blessing to Victor, and now I had to get a strange man's phone number? "Marie will kill us if she finds out..."
"It'll be quick! I promise! I'll do anything."
I bit my lip, preparatory to a loud sigh, and the voice chiding me bilked with it. "Fine. This is your Christmas gift!"
I sidled towards his table, anxiety blasting upwards in my stomach like rockets. Everything felt slow—as though the Lord recalibrated the speed to torment me. The closer I got, the further my legs were to a rout. I couldn't believe I had agreed to her silly request.
I cleared my throat quietly before smiling. "Are you...enjoying your tea?"
In Heaven, it was a quotidian thing to walk up to a stranger and stir up a genial conversation—so, why was I so keyed up?
The man did but look up at me, "Who are you?"
I frowned at his stark reply, though was in tune once I realised the situation we were in—I wouldn't have wanted an unknown man to question me about tea either. "Luka, I'm...new here."
"I can tell." Henri's glance struck me, and then rebounded to his book. "Sit down."
"I don't...think I should. I have work-"
"You'll be fine. Marie isn't hard on her employees."
With grudging fingers, I trailed out the white chair, the low squealing and the gaze flittering over my shoulder acting as a skimpy alert to Sol. My hands paced up and down my thighs before I could feel her zero in on us with her bemused stare.
"Sloan sent you over, didn't she?"
Slightly did my eyes widen, but they resiled.
"If you knew, why did you ask me to sit down?" I remarked, not wanting to humiliate her.
"Because, I want to get acquainted with you." His eyes raised from behind his glasses, and I noted the unmixed shades of blue, as if a palette belonging to the God of the seas. "I come here quite a lot, so you'd better get used to me."
Although I wasn't too sure about his air of disdain, he seemed nice. "Well, what do you like about this place?"
"I'm sure you can answer that for me, you decided to work here right?" Henri intoned, his fingers upraising the white cup, that sat beside a pair of brown gloves. Steam ploughed into the lenses, like it was wary of his tart replies, and he clicked his tongue.
I couldn't help but chuckle at his annoyance—the devil on my shoulder found it humorous, and as did I.
"Laughing at a customer's misery." The man gave a lopsided smiled as he set the ill-treated glasses down. "Employee of the month."
He reclined in the rounded chair, "What reason did she send you over for?"
I clutched the stiff rim of the lilac apron, as if it would avail my core to mine for an excuse. His exacting questions made it hard not to embarrass Sol.
"My phone number?"
My throat threw out an exasperated sigh, the only stone to be found, "Stop asking questions if you're just going to answer them yourself!"
His head fell back in a guffaw. "Alright, alright, I'll stop tormenting you. And about the phone number...we'll see if you've done a good enough job to earn it."
Was he being serious? "But I have wor-"
"You want to help Sloan right? That's why you came here. Don't give up now."
Lord help me. It felt like a hundred sledgehammers had fallen upon my nape—I thought he said he would cease tormenting me! My attention dispersed on the carob book that encumbered his brows by concentration. "Well, what are you reading?"
"On the War of Primis," he answered blithely, unknowing to how that title herded each storm on this planet to my stomach. There was not a book written about that odious war I was told—even the thought was inhumed as far down as the last layer of Hell, yet behold, he held one. "I teach history and, religion so it really satisfies both."
"I see. What is it...about?" I was curious. Memories of that sunless time were finite, and I finally found something; written proof.
"Angels and the creation of demons." The man pushed his black glasses up on the high bridge of nose as he looked to read off of the page.
"'Lo, did the divine youth refuse him, for, by God, his lost honour and incivility would forth brought strikes of light and pelting stones. The golden feathers of his wings had fallen, like angels mislead, unto all left was red skin and bones.'"
I could see it. All of the adrift angels, plummeting to the soil, rather dirt of the damned. The lines he read, it was the story of Lucifer—even saying that name in the seclusion of my mind, transmitted a mortal's fear to me.
"Not a doubt rest in his mind, and glared upon the clouds. In his blood, was revenge dark." Henri turned a page. "I'm not so sure you find this interestin-"
"I do!" I interjected, my shoulders squaring. "But...could you tell me what 'did the divine youth refuse him' means?"
I couldn't recall this part of the story—a divine youth refused him? No angel, other than those illuded, were a stone's throw away.
"Well," Henri started before dramatically sipping his tea, cold from absorbing such ghastly talk. "I'm not too sure. This book seems to talk in riddles, but I assume it has something to do with a young angel."
Enter did Marie's vibrant aura, but I was too spellbound to give an eye. I needed to know more. "In the original story, Lucifer grew arrogant, and claimed that he could reign over the throne of God."
"Someone who knows his stuff. You should teach religion." He chuckled, albeit this was no laughing matter to my being. "But I understand the confusion, there is no mention of a young woman in the original story."
I squirmed slightly in my seat, assaying to tame my compulsion. I didn't want to come across as being overzealous. "Where did you...get that book fro-"
"Hi Henri! I, um, haven't seen you in awhile," the brunette cut off, and we both looked up at her. Damn it. I forgot about my work. I bounced a glance around the cafe, realising that it was only the four of us occupying this place—perchance, she wouldn't be too angry by this fact?
The man arose, his palms hitting his lap, "Ah, Marie! Likewise. I was just talking to Luka over here, he's great. You sure know how to hire them."
I conformed with him, proffering a sorrowful look to Marie who returned an arch smile. "I'll get back to work."
"Wait, Luka!" I turned back to him, a black pen promptly in his hand. "Hold out your hand."
My hand obliged, as though it had grown ears of its own. I watched as he scribbled a tickling sensation on my palm. "Thanks."
Although Henri was finished writing, he didn't let go. He reached for the thick brown gloves, and before I knew it, a maroon syringe spiked my forearm.
"Luka! What the he-"
I lurched rearwards, a whimper fleeing as I wrested the needle from the webs of my skin, but red had already wriggled down my forearm. Garnet splotches escaped into my vision. My breaths were erratic, short. I could tell my body was trying to fight it with the way I convulsed.
Marie! Sol!
Though I could hardly see, I tried to reach out for them, call out their name—but I couldn't! What had he done to me? The sanguine liquid traversed first to my legs, and I collapsed. He was a human! How could he have done this! The clouds of blood eclipsed my sight before blackness treaded on its heels. I was paralysed, yet I was clawing to stay awake. I had to protect them! But I-