Page 20 of How Not to Date an Angel

Their mug clicked on the tabletop, and they stood, socked feet padding as they stepped toward their office, pulled open the French doors, and took a seat at their desk.

This office was their favorite room. The walls behind and across from them were bookshelves, filled to the tip-top with books they’d collected over the years. The wall to their left was nothing but arched windows, the stained glass tops casting a beautiful glow over the yellow couch.

They did have curtains, but rarely did their clients request to use them.

The desk was more for show, except for when they were doing admin work—of which there wasn’t much. In sessions, they preferred to sit in the chair in front of their desk so the clients didn’t feel so disconnectedfrom them.

A lot of trust went into Rami when someone entered this room, and they truly respected the humans for it.

Pulling their gaze back to their laptop, they read through a few emails and replied when needed.

In the monotony, their thoughts traveled to the demon. Where had he gone in the late morning? Was he meeting someone? He was still injured, so surely he wouldn’t have gone far.

Rami realized they had no way to contact the demon. He said he’d be back, but as the hours passed, Rami began to wonder.

What if Julian had been taken by the people who hurt him? What if he was being hurt again?

What was he even doing on Earth? He’d said he was a messenger, but messenger demons usually remained in Hell until they had a message to deliver.

You could ask.

Oh, but that felt like an invasion of privacy.

Then again, the demon certainly didn’t mind invadingtheirprivacy, slinking around and showing up bloody, making themworry.The audacity.

It might not be any of their business, but this demon was staying in Rami’s house. If he was going to bring trouble to their doorstep, Rami deserved to know ahead of time, right?

As they contemplated, they stared toward the arched windows, the branches of the tree swaying softly in the breeze, empty of birds.

Mind made up, Rami opened their desk drawer and pulled out a piece of very special card stock, the edges lined with silver. With their pen, they stated their name, assignment, location, and question, along with a short description of the demon’s information.

They signed it, sealed it in an envelope, and went to their window, walking through the prisms of light from the glass. It unlatchedsmoothly, and they pushed both sides open, holding the letter out into the weakening autumn sun.

Within seconds, a perfectly white dove landed on the windowsill.

“Hello there, it’s lovely to see you. You’ll take this where it should go, won’t you?” they asked softly. They brushed a finger over the dove’s head, and she blinked at them slowly.

Then Heaven’s messenger flapped her wings and snagged the letter from their other hand before taking flight.

She didn’t go far, dissipating into nothingness as she traveled to Heaven.

They’d have an answer in a few days, probably, so for now they closed the window, shutting out the too-hot day and retreating to their desk.

It had been a while since they’d written to Heaven as well. They hoped management wouldn't be disappointed in them. Rami hoped they could share any information on the demon at all.

With a sigh, they opened their laptop and finished reading a few replies with their clients, scheduling the new appointments a couple of them had requested.

Surely a week was long enough for the demon to get back on his feet and find his own way?

As they were finishing up, Rami heard the back door open, then close, and they sat up straight, attention shifting to the open French doors.

Oh no.

“Honey, I’m home—hey, you didn’t drink the coffee I reheated for you!” His voice grew louder as his steps sounded, and Rami was frozen—they should’ve shut and locked the doors for good measure—

There he was, appearing in Rami’s line of sight and grabbing up the mug.

“Come on, now, don’t be like that,” he said, and sauntered right in without knocking, or asking, or—or anything.

---