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Pale pink mist upon the horizon glowed with the rising of the sun. Soft at first, the gentlest of rays peeking out from beyond the canopy of intertwined trees, the mismatched smatterings of light painting the dark ground.
Slowly, the world was being enveloped in the warmth of the sun, daylight covering all it could touch with its gentle gaze.
So too did the resident of the shaded garden feel its warmth. He rested in the same space as always, the image of perfect poise sat upon an old, white wicker patio chair. His eyes were closed, as usual, pale eyelashes gently pressed against skin. The white of his hair glowed a soft hue of pink with the rising sun, his skin like marbled rose quartz. As the sun rose to illuminate his lips, he took a breath in, filling his lungs with the earthy scent of coffee and perfumed morning glory.
His eyes opened, finally. Such a gentle tone of blue, like the sky reflected against the sea.
Lucifer looked out towards the sun, and again, again, and again, he felt a pang in the bit of his stomach. Something he could not place, despite his best attempts to. A twisting feeling. Painful and unwanted at first, yet when it passed, it left behind a sweet soreness, like an overworked muscle the next morning. He exhaled the breath he had taken, and stood from his seat.
The coffee trees needed to be tended to.
His heels tapped softly against the stonework paths as he made his way to the coffee groves. He repeated the same motions as he always would; running his fingertips against the empty, cold cobblestone houses along the path, moving to unsnag his red ribbon from the brush it always caught on, arranging the morning glories that clung to the wooden fencing so that they could bask in the sun.
How many times had he repeated these motions? How long had it been?
He hadn’t an inkling, of course. Day and night were an act, in this world. The rise of the sun and its exchange with the moon, meaningless.
However, the sun allowed the morning glories to flourish. So, perhaps, it was not without its own meaning.
Lucifer pressed on to the coffee tree groves. Up a small hill, his heels continuing to tap softly against the pathway, he continued until reaching a gate. His fingers slipped under the latch, the gate door creaking open for him, inviting him in with warm smells of past memories and whispered conversations.
This was his world, his solitary life. He did not mind it, he would tell himself. He had no dire needs, he would try to convince himself. This was his punishment, the bed that he made for himself to sleep in.
The angel caught himself mid-thought as he pulled the berry-red beans from the trees to place into a basin, that same thought that he tried to keep buried.
I miss him.
He let out a shaky breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Staring into the scarlet beans in the basin, he tried to reign in his mind, shackle it like a dog to its masters home. Yet, he could never do so--instead, it was a balloon tied to a childs wrist, connected yet bumbling, wishing it could escape.
“Selfish,” he scolded himself. Bending over, he grasped a bundle of beans that had fallen during his moment, tossing them back into the basin.
The coffee was bitter. He enjoyed the taste of it, the beans that he had cultivated through time developing a deep, rich flavor. The slightest sliver of sweetness added to his cup made the bitter seem less so, and the two contrasting tastes mingled together.
He thought for a moment, staring into the deep black liquid. “Perhaps a longer roasting time,” he mused to himself.
The sun was setting upon the horizon. He could only see the last few rays of sunlight beginning to inch away from behind the garden patio. Pale moonlight rose through the canopy of trees, painting Lucifer’s face with spots of white, glinting off the surface of the varnished wooden table and casting light onto the vase of morning glories that sat on the table.
He would never admit it, but he had grown to dislike the nighttime.
The angel swirled the leftover drink in his cup, the warmth of the coffee turning lukewarm. He pushed the china towards the edge of the table, past the ceiling of the patio, just to see the moonlight reflecting in the dark surface of the liquid, like his own small moon in his cup. All for him to grasp and hold between the palms of his hands, all for him to take care of and nurture. He would nurture this small moon. He would pluck it from his teacup and hold it in his hands, and show the small moon the joy that comes from the warmth of his fingertips.
Lost amidst his thoughts, he pushed the china too far. The cup and plate slid off the table, smashing with a sharp pierce against the wooden floor.
Lucifer stared at the remnants of the teacup and plate, its pieces now every which way. He stared at the coffee that now pooled on the floor, some being soaked into the rug that the table sat upon.
He finally looked up, and stared at the moon.
“I’m sorry, for neglecting you,” he whispered to the moon. Yet, his words caught on the wood and fabric and flowers and metal of the room, not to escape.
Quietly, he stood from his chair, and got to work to collect the pieces of china. Every small piece, he gathered in his hand, not caring when it would prick and bleed. With a stained rag, he soaked up the spilled coffee.
Lucifer then turned to the back of the room, and opened the lid to a simple vase. Etched onto its surface were many bells, all ringing every which way. He deposited the splintered pieces of glass into the vase, where they bounced and clinked against other similar pieces, and quietly sealed the lid again.
Standing before the vase, he let his fingertips trail against the engraved bells.
“Wedding bells?” he mumbled into the chilling air, tilting his head and closing his eyes. He felt the lines and shapes like he was feeling the fleece of a blanket.
A soft breath again, released into the empty space. He was silent for a long time, seemingly content with feeling the etched designs.
Then, he stopped feeling, and with both hands, he smoothed his palms against the curve of the vase.
“I am sorry, for what I have done to you,” he said. He rubbed his thumbs into the vase.
How many times had he repeated those words? They had been seared onto his tongue and teeth and throat.
The angel took a breath again, shorter this time, and turned on his heel. However, a glimmer caught his eye. A bright light in the canopy of trees to the east of the garden. Soft and fluttering, like a feather in the wind.
His eyes widened, and all the blood in his body ran to his head, and the thrumming of his heart echoed in his ears like a wild drumbeat. Fire ignited in his bones, and he took a step forward, his perfect heel clicking against the floorboard.
Suddenly, he was running like his life depended on it.
Maybe, his life did depend on it.
No sense passed through to his body, not the gust of wind against his ears or the stinging pinpricks in his hands pressed against salty skin.
All he wanted to do, all he needed to do, was to reach that canopy. All he wanted was to grasp that light.
As he approached, the light began to shift. It moved and swayed, then stood perfectly still.
In the next split second, the light dashed quicker than he could process, and Lucifer was being flung backwards, his vision going dark. It took him a moment to realize that it was from his face being pressed into a body.
“ Lucifer ,” a voice whined, a voice that he could never forget, no matter where he was or how much time had passed. A voice like dark, roasted coffee, perfectly honeyed and saccharine, the most idyllic blend of bitter and sweet.
He grasped onto the body like his life depended on it. He was almost too hesitant to speak, but the balloon had been snipped from the wrist. “Sandalphon…?”
The person parted them slightly, allowing their eyes to meet. Mahogany red eyes met azure, and Lucifer knew in his heart of hearts, this was him .
Sandalphon smiled, that grin seared into his heart. He almost couldn’t speak; Lucifer understood the feeling well. “I’ve missed you,” was the first thing he could think to say.
Lucifer trailed his hands from his beloved’s waist, up his sides, grasping onto his shoulders and feeling the cloth down his arms. Committing the sensation to memory. Sandalphon’s smile deepened, settling into contentment, and he let his forehead touch against the taller’s. Their arms entwined each other, Lucifer’s soft palms cupping the other’s cheeks, Sandalphon’s delicate fingers stretching across the pale skin of Lucifer’s neck.
“Sandalphon,” Lucifer breathed, as if whispering a prayer. “Is this an illusion… why are you here…?”
The russet-haired man let go of a breath. “Just like that time, you and I, we recognized each other in this place. I said I would only be going for a bit,” he said. Then, with a small laugh, he added, “I might have stayed out a bit longer than intended. Forgive me.”
“Nonsense,” Lucifer immediately responded. He let out a shaky breath. “Nonsense.”
It was quiet between them for a pause, with just the duet of their sighs and the brush of wind against grassy knolls. They both seemed content to simply share each other’s breath.
Then, Sandalphon spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, as if any louder and he would shatter the air between them. “It has been… a long time, Lucifer. I… I’ve seen many friends come and go, and I’ve seen the world shift and turn.” He paused for a moment, swallowing hard, regaining his diminishing composure. “I’ve--We have all worked hard, to preserve the skies you love so much.”
Lucifer dropped his hands from Sandalphon’s cheeks, one hand shifting to brush the lock of hair that always dropped over the bridge of his nose. He played with the end of it for but a moment, then smoothed it back the way it dropped.
Sandalphon continued, “A long, long time ago, they left me. Not all of them, but…” His bottom lip trembled, and Lucifer tried to move to comfort him the way he always had, but he realized suddenly that his body felt heavy. His arms felt like they were filled with weights. Sandalphon just laughed gently. “Time affects everyone, doesn’t it? There’s no escape from it. Even me--maybe, especially me.”
“Sandalphon,” Lucifer whispered, and the brunet raised his gaze, capturing the taller angel.
“I think… it’s time for a rest, don’t you think?” Sandalphon said softly, grasping Lucifer’s hand and pressing it against his cheek.
Lucifer pursed his lips together. Do not be selfish, he chided himself, do not take what is not yours--
“Before, when I was in the cocoon, it feels like it was several lifetimes ago. I had visitors, did I ever tell you?” Lucifer shook his head, not trusting his voice. Sandalphon nodded. “The girl in blue, the captain, and the little red dragon all visited me. They came to visit me, and… I felt angry, not at them, but at myself.”
Sandalphon felt a sharp twist in his stomach, recalling those memories. How long ago was it now, that they had been separated? His friends, his family, the ones he turned to when he needed treatment for wounds, a mind to bounce ideas off of, or just to share a drink with and revel in memories.
It had been a long, long time. Human lifespans… were so short. Even the lifespans of beasts were short. He paused a moment to stiffen his face, and Lucifer understood, of course he understood. Lucifer would wait until the end of time for him.
“The girl in blue… she told me, ‘After agonizing over your purpose for so long, you’re just going to give up and rot in here?’ She was so earnest, she always was,” he continued slowly.
Lucifer latched onto every word of his like it was spoken from the gospel.
“She said… she said, ‘You have to believe that you and Lucifer will understand each other one day, or you’ll never be happy.’ Lucifer, I… ah, well…” Sandalphon let the touch of a smile ghost his lips. His voice was so soft, softer than any silk. “I believe. Throughout all these years, after everything that has happened, I… believe.”
Those mahogany red eyes bore into Lucifer’s like they could see straight through him, into the back of his mind where he buried all selfish thoughts. The brunet was silent.
Lucifer opened his mouth. His mind flitted about like a charm of hummingbirds, his lips opening and closing as he tried to put thought into word, but nothing seemed to fit, how could language possibly describe the feeling in his chest? How could he possibly fit his thoughts and feelings into a word, into the constraint of language? It was impossible.
Yet, with the way Sandalphon stared at him, his white pupils stark against the deep, simmering scarlet of his iris, he felt a fire burn through his throat that needed to escape.
“Sandalphon,” Lucifer started, testing his voice. It was weak, and wavering, but Sandalphon clung to his breath like Lucifer had to his. “How do I know… when my punishment is over? How do I know, when it has been enough? How do I know if there is an end?”
The shorter angel laughed softly, his hands coming to trace the line of Lucifer’s jaw, gentle fingertips stroking the hair at his beloved’s temples. He said, “Come now, you’re asking me? Lucifer, watcher of the blue skies… asking me, when his timeout is over?”
Lucifer closed his eyes, his white eyelashes brushing softly against his cheek. “Sandalphon,” he said, his name a prayer into the air. “How do I know when my harm to you has been healed?”
They were both quiet for a pause. A wind rolled past, carrying with it the scent of coffee and the perfume of morning glories. Lucifer opened his eyes slowly. The wind ruffled Sandalphon’s hair, and Lucifer reached to smooth the unkept locks back into their perfectly imperfect spots.
Finally, Sandalphon said, “The girl in blue… Lyria.” His voice cracked slightly. “She said something else to me, when she visited me in the cocoon. ‘Just meekly accepting punishment like this is meaningless,’ she had said.”
“At first, I didn’t understand what she meant. I got angry, and I yelled, and I felt something in my chest that I hated so much, it made me want to scream. I couldn’t understand that feeling--but later, after the dust had settled, after I began adventuring with them, after I accepted them as my family, I finally realized what she had meant.”
Sandalphon’s gaze turned determined. “The sins you feel on your shoulders still, we can repent them together . I want to be together with you, I don’t want to be separated any longer. You don’t need to repent like this, alone… I want to be together with you, I want to cross that veil with you.”
Lucifer swallowed hard. A raging storm ran rampant through his mind and heart, and every atom of his body felt like they were made out of stone.
Sandalphon’s voice turned almost pleading. “Both you and I, we’ve been through so much… don’t you think, Lucifer, that we should be allowed to rest…?” Lucifer’s chest tightened so much, he wondered if his heart would stop.
After all that has happened, you still--, he thought.
How could you ever forgive me--
You--
The feeble wood that had been holding the river back was suddenly swept away with the current.
I…
I want to be together.
All the muscles in Lucifer’s throat clenched, and all the blackened, selfish thoughts he had stored in the back of his mind poured out. They touched every thought they could reach, tainting them, twisting them, and for a moment, he felt sick.
How could I share my sin with him-- I want to indulge in him.
I do not deserve forgiveness-- I want to deserve forgiveness.
Sandalphon slowly closed the gap between their faces, their sighs both warm and bitter. The aroma of coffee filled their senses. Lucifer brushed the back of his fingers against the brunet’s cheeks and acted on pure instinct when he cupped the angle of his jaw.
“Lucifer,” Sandalphon breathed.
“You have been my only solace, throughout my time here,” Lucifer said softly. His voice was weak. “Do… I have your permission, to indulge myself?”
His struggle to push the words out of his mouth seemed like such a monumental task, yet now, they were in the air, and Sandalphon was smiling so wide, his canines showed in the most endearing way.
“You have always had permission,” he said simply.
Like a wave crashing into a crumbling cliff, they both fell into each other. Their lips pressed softly, then hard, as if they needed to melt into the other, as if their lives depended on it.
They both felt, I think my life does depend on it .
Hands gripped at each other, grasping and pulling, the urgency in the kiss tangible in the way that they held each other. There were over two-thousand years worth of noncommunicable feelings, thoughts, desires held within the brush of their lips and urgency of their breaths. A feeling inside Sandalphon suddenly bubbled up, and in a flash of feathers and light, six pure white wings fluttered into view, curling around Lucifer and cocooning them in their own space in the universe.
Lucifer felt Sandalphon brush his thumbs against his cheeks. A smear of teardrops caught against his thumbs.
“I didn’t know you could cry,” Sandalphon laughed softly, his own eyes becoming glossy.
“I… did not know, either,” Lucifer answered.
Perhaps, he was changing. Perhaps, they both were changing.
And perhaps, that was not something to fear, but something to anticipate.
Lucifer let out a breath. They parted somewhat, but their foreheads touched together.
Sandalphon let his wings drop, allowing in the light from the rising sun. The mist in the air turned a soft pink, warming up as the sun rose above them both. The rays from daybreak rose above the canopy of trees behind Sandalphon, and cast patterns of orange against the back of his head. He seemed even more captivating than any work of art, a dream that could make the sun sizzle with jealousy, and Lucifer felt his fingers twitch as he desired to grasp, to indulge, to pull into his chest and keep forever.
Sandalphon turned his head ever slightly to see the rising sun. His eyes glowed with orange light.
“Good morning,” he said with a grin.
Lucifer swallowed hard. “Good morning,” he returned. Then, “I have been waiting for you, Sandalphon.”
Sandalphon grasped Lucifer’s hand, their naked palms melting together like they were made to fit into each other.
They were made to fit together, in fact.
“I’m finally back,” Sandalphon said. He looked past Lucifer’s shoulder, down the grassy hill and towards the shaded garden, filled with bursting blue morning glories. He took in a deep breath, savoring it in his lungs, and then exhaled. “Let’s have a cup of coffee, Lucifer. Once more… and then, let’s go out, together. Okay?”
Lucifer entwined his fingers with Sandalphon’s. The dark, tainted feeling in his heart that had plagued him had suddenly turned white with light and warmth.
“Yes, Sandalphon,” he returned.
Together, they walked down the hill, twin heels making their way through the fluttering grass blades. Two chairs brushed against the carpet as they were pulled out. Two cups were brought from the cupboard, and two servings of coffee were poured.
“Maybe, we could be reincarnated as two swans, Lucifer. I got to see a lot of them while travelling with the Captain. They stay together for their entire lives, once bonded.”
When the sun shined high in the sky, illuminating the whole world, two perfectly imperfect beings walked side by side, arms entwined, and travelled to the end of the horizon together.
“I… I think, that would be lovely, Sandalphon. But…”
Silence, comforted by an unwavering patience and love.
“I think, I would be happy as anything, so long as we can stay together.”
A soft laugh served as a response.
The two beings disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving nothing behind, besides a flutter of feathers.