Gabriel looked him up and down, from the dirty sneakers to the beautiful long hair. Abaddon was the picture of someone in command of his surroundings and without a fuck to give. “No. You look like you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Abaddon squinted at him, his face pale in contrast to the dense ink covering its far sides and his neck. He seemed both strong and ethereal, truly like a being from another world, and when his eyes settled on Gabriel, it felt like being close to a cyclone that could take him away from this world of suffering and bitterness.
“I do. The Lord gives me purpose. I don’t question it anymore.”
Gabriel hugged himself with a deep sigh. “I wish humans had that kind of certainty.” He was sure of one thing—Abaddon’s presence made his body and soul come alive in ways it never before had. His heart beat faster, his face got hotter, his palms sweated. And like a wax candle in front of a bonfire, he might just melt at Abaddon’s altar.
When the handsome man—no, angel—stepped closer, his proximity struck fire in Gabriel’s cold limbs. He’d dressed far too lightly for the April evening, especially one after heavy rain, but Abaddon didn’t seem to mind the short sleeves, as if his thick brown mane and tattoos covering most of the bared skin protected him from the elements like runes of Hell.
He seemed to have as little doubt about physical touch as he’d had about killing occultists and pulled Gabriel against his chest, stroking his back in circles. “Confidence comes from strong belief. Can be a blessing or a curse,” he said, nodding at the water.
Gabriel’s breath caught, but despite his shyness, he wouldn’t move an inch because he was exactly where he wanted to be. Following his torturous ordeal, he’d become averse to physical closeness, but Abaddon felt so safe Gabriel even fell asleep next to him and was already addicted to his touch.
“No matter how much I want to believe you’re an angel sent to me by God, I still doubt. It just seems so impossible.” He settled his cheek against the warm chest, glad that they were done with Rogers.
Did it make him a bad person that he didn’t have any compassion for the doctor after finding out the bastard had hurt him in childhood and gaslighted him him since? The Catholic upbringing he’d been subjected to, implored everyone to forgive their tormentors, to be the bigger person, to turn the other cheek rather than lash out, but he’d always believed that it was a way of thinking that went against human nature.
If the Catholic doctrine expressed the will of God, then how come the Lord had sent an angel to Earth in order to stop a group of evildoers, effectively taking away their free will? Why intervene here, and not stop mass atrocities happening in war zones, or heal children suffering from cancer?
Was it because the cult, as Abaddon put it, believed they could influence God’s plan, and had therefore spat in his face? Would that slight be more condemnable than violence and the pain of innocents?
“You can touch me. How can you say I’m not real?” Abaddon asked, unaware of Gabriel’s blasphemous thoughts. Now that they were so close, and without the strong aroma of shower gel to interfere, Gabriel could sense the angel’s own scent through the thin black T-shirt. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, but when he let Abaddon’s warmth overcome him too, it became clear that the earthy yet clean smell resembled that of stones pulled out of a bonfire.
"I know, I know. I just need to get used to this new reality." Gabriel ran his hand up Abaddon's side, amazed that he was allowed to touch such an intimidating creature. And yet, this angel’s earthly shell came with all the needs of a mortal. He got hungry, he felt pain, and got hard when aroused. Hell, he even had to relieve his bladder not long ago. For all intents and purposes, Abaddon was a man.
“Well, you will need to adjust when your tormentors are all gone. You shall finally be free,” Abaddon said and walked toward the road they’d left earlier, tugging Gabriel along.
Even now, he held Gabriel’s hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Can’t fathom what that would be like. May I ask…? Do you like me?” He hated how needy that sounded the moment the words left his mouth, but at least they now walked side by side, and he didn’t have to meet Abaddon’s gaze.
Abaddon exhaled, pulling Gabriel closer. “If you’re asking whether I like you as a person, the answer is yes.”
Gabriel’s heart ached as if the angel had squished it with his massive hand, and he ran out of breath. But before he could have forced out something to cover his shame, Abaddon went on.