Page 8 of How Not to Date an Angel

His knee throbbed, a constant heartbeat of discomfort, and he held on tightly to the angel as he stepped over the lip of the tub. Julian could barely put weight on his hurt knee, and Rami seemed to sense that.

“Forgive me,” Rami said, and gripped Julian’s hips.

His breath caught as Rami caught him, offering support as Julian managed both feet into the tub.

“Down you go,” Rami said, and Julian wanted to be annoyed by the commentary, but found he wasn’t. He was appreciative, instead.

“Careful,” Rami murmured.

Julian felt like an infant as he gripped the sides of the tub and let himself be lowered into the hot water.

He hissed at first, but once his skin adjusted to the temperature, he found it was rather delightful.

“Oh, I missed baths,” Julian remarked with a sigh. “Holy shit.”

“Ugh, I rather despise that phrase,” the angel said, shutting off the water and stepping away, then even further, until they were out the door.

I’ll just keep using it then.

Julian assumed the angel was gone, and let his head rest against the edge of the tub, finally wincing at the throb in his head and knee and side and horn and back and—fuck, everywhere.

A throat cleared, and Julian picked his head up, squinting at the angel. In the bright light of the bathroom, Julian made a completely ambivalent observation: the angel was attractive.

Eyes as silvery as the sky upon the day of creation, and hair as gray as the shades angels refused to acknowledge they all lived in.

Okay, fine. It was blue-ish gray, down to the root as if it was a fresh dye job the internet had made popular a few years back.

If anything, the angel looked outdated with their tidy hair. Short on the sides and long and curly on the top.

Julian had let his own hair grow out after despising every moment of the buzz cut he’d experimented with. His hair now proudly brushed his shoulders, and was long enough to put in a bun when his horns weren’t in the way.

“Here are some towels and clothes. I’m going to give you some privacy; try not to waste it. Yell when you’re ready and I’ll be back to help.”

Julian hummed and watched the angel turn and go, pulling the door until only a crack remained. With a sigh, he turned his head up and glared at the bright light of the bathroom, only for it to dim to a comfortable setting.

His gaze snapped to the door once again, Rami’s hand slipping from the light switch and away.

Julian’s brows furrowed, and his head smacked against the lip of the tub.

Stupid, thoughtful angels. Allkindandpureand fucking… fuckingselfless.

With a groan, he sank beneath the water, bubbles rising as he let out his frustration.

When he came back up, the water was a muddled pink, and he grimaced before dipping under again.

He scrubbed his right hand through his hair, keeping the left one pressed to his probably-bruised ribs. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he came up for air and decided that would have to do until he could properly wash it.

He inhaled the steam from the hot bath and studied the bathroom, trying to learn more about this angel while he had the opportunity.

Well, that explains the vanilla scent,he thought as he read the label for their body wash. Their shampoo and conditioner—they didn’t use a three-in-one, Julian noted—looked like it should be used on a horse instead of their delicate angel hair, but who was Julian to judge?

Julian didn’t relish the thought of smelling like a dessert, but since it was his only option…

He lathered up his palms and scrubbed them over his skin instead of using the angel’s fancy sponge-looking thing.

Actually. On second thought.He grabbed it from the hook and poured more soap on it before sudsing up.

He chuckled to himself as he washed the dirt and remaining blood from his skin. The warm air filled with the scent of vanilla, and by the time the water was cooling, he was squeaky clean. His wounds hadn’t magically disappeared, but he imagined the hot water had loosened him up, made him feel a little better.

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