His warm hug felt soft, as if wings, not hands, held Gabriel close.
“What happened?” Abaddon asked, but Gabriel just shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter. I brought the bandage and disinfectant. Show me your place so I can take care of you there.” He kissed the sturdy shoulder with a sigh of relief.
He rarely met anyone in the corridors he was allowed to wander, but he wanted to be in a cozy space and no longer worry about Martinez coming after him.
Abaddon asked no more questions and led him past the secret door, and then down a series of passages, climbing ever higher each time they changed direction. At very long last was a narrow staircase, but despite not knowing where he was, Gabriel followed his angel without question.
The light at the top was blinding.
He squeezed Abaddon’s hand, fighting away all thoughts of Martinez. Or even Harry. He just wanted to be with Abaddon in this new haven where no one could reach them. He rubbed away the last hint of tears and smiled at his beloved.
“Show meee!” he demanded, and Abaddon laughed, pulling him into a vast interior that was at least the size of a football field. Broken into sections with wooden beams and clusters of fabric-covered furniture and other items, it was in equal parts magnificent and shabby.
But instead of letting him wander, Abaddon led the way left, to a wall of wardrobes and bookcases, which let streams of daylight through.
There was a slim opening at the end of the row, between furniture and brick, and as Gabriel passed through it, he found himself in a midsized room with a partially-uncovered circular window almost as tall as the interior.
While dusty, it showed the far off grounds of the orphanage, and there was so much for him to take in.
The space was surrounded by books and trinkets in cupboards, boxes stuffed between piles of old curtains, and a few scattered candles. Definitely not some dark lair the Angel of Destruction might have inhabited. There was a mirror, propped on a dresser-sized item obscured with a red velvet curtain draped from a hook on the wall, and the whole space had a bohemian vibe achieved with items Abaddon must have poached from around the building. Even the vase of dried flowers, which had disappeared from the reception two nights ago was here, and while the rest of the attic was a dreary mess of dust, this room was the epitome of safe and cozy.
“Is this where you’ve been spending our time apart? How did you even find out about this attic? I didn’t know we had one,” Gabriel said, running his fingers over the back of a velvet armchair that had to be an antique
“I just knew it was there. Do you like it?” Abaddon shrugged, gravitating toward the bed, which really was more of a nest consisting of several comforters and an extensive number of pillows on top of a mattress.
Could it have been another vision from God guiding him to a safe space for Abaddon to occupy while he was fulfilling his duty? Would God micromanage things like that, or was He an all-knowing presence who provided everything to Abaddon without thinking? Gabriel’s brain hurt from trying to work that out so he focused on the here and now.
Abaddon had shaved, and his long brown hair fell past his shoulders in soft strands. It was hard to imagine some days that a creature meant for destruction, so tall, so strong, with frightening tattoos all over its skin, could also be so gentle with a human.
“It’s so cozy,” Gabriel said with a widening smile as he took in all the details. From the dark blue pattern on the armchair to the scent of apples in the air. Abaddon had even put a bowl overflowing with cut apricots, so they’d have a snack as they spent time here.
Abaddon’s mouth stretched into a crescent shape, as if he’d never before heard anything more pleasing. “Glad you like it. I wanted to create a space where no one can find us. Where we can have fun in peace,” he said, picking up a dark bottle from behind the armchair.
Gabriel stalled at the sight of the wine, but then realized that he wasn’t taking pills, and if Father John didn’t want him to drink, he’d do it to spite the bastard.
“I like that. To not worry about someone knocking on my door or Cloud disturbing your gentle sensibilities,” he teased, but then something rushed from under the armchair so fast it took Gabriel’s brain half a second to register it was a rat.
In the same time it took him to compute that, Abaddon yelped, threw the bottle into the air and jumped to the armchair. Gabriel stepped back in panic to save the wine as it fell, but the rodent disappeared behind a cupboard, and they faced each other, frozen.