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The former Supreme Archangel padded his way out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. From there, he could see through the glass doors that looked out onto the back patio. He spotted a lone figure perched on the top step of the broad stairs that led down to the garden. Their back was to him, and a white, angel-winged mug sat next to them. He smiled when he saw them extend a hand and make a small gesture. Steam began to rise from the cup.
The doors made a soft swfoosh sound as he opened them, and a rush of cold morning air wafted over him. He gathered the duvet he had brought with him around his shoulders and walked out to join them. Without turning around, the figure announced, “I made you a hot cocoa. Been keeping it warm for you.” They lifted the mug and held it out to the side.
He shuffled over and joined them on the step. As he sat, he took the mug. With his other hand, he held out the blanket so his considerate maker-of-cocoa could snuggle against him beneath it. He settled it around both their shoulders and attempted his first words of the day.
“Thank you.” His eyebrows drew together in frustration. His voice sounded raspy, a bit hoarse. He took a sip of the hot, sweet drink to clear his throat and tried again.
“Thank you. This is lovely.” His companion smiled up at him in acknowledgement.
“I wasn’t sure which name you wanted this morning, so I left it blank.”
“Hmmm…” He gave the implied question some thought. “James, I think.”
Beelzebub nodded and lifted their tea in a cheers motion. Lilac letters manifested across the white surface, proclaiming it to be James’ Mug . James smiled and took another sip.
“And what about you? Any preferences today?” Beelzebub half-shrugged a shoulder.
“Ze, zir, I think.” James repeated the words, letting them settle into his mouth. They sat together on the porch, watching the dawning sun burn off the mist that had settled in the little valley around the cabin.
“You snore in your sleep, you know that?” Beelzebub’s tone was light, mischievous.
“No, I don’t.” James looked at zir, affronted at the suggestion. Then, his expression changed to confusion. “What’s snoring?” The former Prince of Hell laughed, zirs joy igniting a warm glow in James’ chest.
“You make a noise while you sleep,” Ze explained, “without your knowledge.”
“Oh. Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah, I like it. You sort of buzz like a sleepy fly. It’s…” Beelzebub paused. Zirs head tilted to the side as ze searched for the right word. “Comforting.”
“Well, that’s alright, then.” James held out his free hand within their duvet cocoon, and Beelzebub placed zirs hand in it.
“Fancy going into town this evening? To see if the public house serves chips? I’d like to try ingesting some.” Beelzebub nodded at the suggestion.
“Sure, why not? I’m feeling adventurous today.”