Page 7 of The Devil You Know

I picked up the small basket, inspecting it curiously.

“It was a long time ago, though! I’m out of practice, and the materials are sub-optimal... it’s not very well made...” Michael fretted at my inspection.

“It’s beautiful,” I said simply. “I always admired the artistry of such practical crafts. Do you think you will be able to make a bigger one? Or maybe a net? A rope?”

We were deep into the conversation about how we could improve the cave and streamline the process of gathering supplies when I realized I was thinking about this space as a home. Or at least a home base. A place I was going to stay in.

But was I really planning to stay here with Michael? Would he even allow that?

The reason I crawled to him like a dog with a tail between its legs was the peculiar circumstances of the day; I needed a place to dry off. Now, when I wasn’t shivering from being wet and cold, I could use the day to scout out my own place. Maybe I would even find a better cave than Michael.

I can use his generosity until he kicks me out, I reasoned to myself. And I will look for a perfect place to stay at while I’m out and about.

Satisfied with the plan, I let my shoulders relax and discussed the duties for the day with my temporary ally. I ended up being the one gathering stuff and exploring, while the angel stayed near the cave preparing materials, crafting, cooking. I had to hide a snicker behind my hand as he did all this domestic stuff in his pretty, flimsy, light-colored angelic robes. They were getting more discolored every day while you could hardly see the wear-and-tear on my sturdy, dark getup.

With that in mind, I found a place to bathe in and clean our clothes; a small waterfall falling into a lake, this time a different one than the one I had to abandon. It didn’t hurt that the place was incredibly beautiful, breathtaking even. I wanted to show it to Michael.

“Look, frankly speaking, you stink,” was my method of convincing the angel to go with me the next day.

Maybe it wasn’t very sophisticated, but it worked. I knew Michael was a bit like a fussy cat who worried about its appearance or being clean all the time, so this bushcore experience had to be grating on him. Grudgingly, he agreed to go with me.

“You can lean on me,” I offered when it became obvious that blasted hurt leg he wouldn’t let me do anything about was causing him problems. He just shook his head and repurposed one of the fallen tree branches as a walking stick. Stubborn idiot.

The trek was very slow, but it was worth it when I saw the awe on Michael’s face as he took in the beautiful scenery.

“This is breathtaking,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

“Yes, it is,” I responded, my eyes trained on him while I ignored the view. “We should start with washing the clothes and we can bathe properly while they are drying.”

I started taking my clothes off, but noticed Michael was frozen in place.

“Come on, you will need to get naked sooner or later, princess,” I rolled my eyes at him. “And I need to wash my underwear as well, so get used to the sight of my bare ass.”

Michael hid his face in his hands. When did he grow such prudish sensibilities, seriously!

“Look, my coat will keep, and I don’t want to waterlog it anyway, so you can use it to cover yourself. How does that sound?”

“Like I have no choice,” Michael mumbled. “But, yes, thank you, I will take it.”

With that settled, I threw the coat at him and turned politely around while my clothes ended in a pile at my feet.

“I’m done,” the angel said so quietly I barely heard him.

Eagerly, I swirled around, my eyes taking in how Michael looked; half naked, in my clothes, blushing.

Splendid, I thought, but then a cold feeling gripped my heart as I saw the injured leg peeking from beneath the coat.

“Holy fuck! Michael, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad!” I exclaimed, appearing at his side in a second, swiping the leather aside to take a proper look.

The angel yelped, and I had to control his descent as he lost his balance. I cradled him in my arms, disbelieving what I was seeing. The leg looked purple, and red, and white – streaks branching out as if he was hit by lightning. And there was scarring. Deep scarring. Wounds that had to be debilitating. Wounds that were already healed but badly.

“This... you didn’t hurt your leg here,” I said, a feeling of foreboding hanging over me. “Michael... where... when did you get this?”

“You fought well,” Michael said with a wobbly smile. “Heaven likes to pretend that the duel between us was won easily, but you and I know better.”

“I did it,” I said woodenly. “I hurt you so much you are carrying scars to this day.”

“We hurt each other. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Lucifer. I never wanted our battle to end the way it did. For me to set this horrible precedent other angels followed.”

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