Page 82 of The Fallen
Luc pulls a face like they have no idea what Lilith is complaining about. They put the bottle of vodka down on thecounter near me. “How about you, babywings, want to drink like the brave little toaster you are?”
“Quit trying to corrupt the youth,” Lilith chides, putting the Cokes and three tumbler glasses down on the counter. She flashes me a grin, though, and pushes one glass in my direction, offering it up. “Wanna try it?”
It’s like the tea although the energy in the room feels different, fizzing with anticipation rather than the soft curiosity of this morning in Lilith’s kitchen. Luc has already opened the vodka and poured themselves a generous slosh of clear alcohol. They knock it back in record time.
Lilith is watching me earnestly, unfiltered joy emanating outwards, framing her like the blur of heat around an open flame. It almost hurts, somewhere deep inside my chest, like a hook piercing inflamed muscle and yanking sharply enough to rip and shred.
“Okay,” I agree, unable to resist the pull of Lilith’s seemingly innate magnetism.
Lilith beams at me like I just promised to grant all her wishes for eternity, and it hits me a little like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. It’s only when I find myself struggling to breathe that I realise I’ve been inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide automatically, without noticing it. I can’t even pinpoint when I started breathing instinctively. I can’t remember when I started needing to.
Unaware of my sudden revelation, Lilith makes me a drink of Coke and vodka. She goes back to the fridge to retrieve a bag of ice. She drops two of the medium-sized ice cubes into my drink before sliding it over and settling in with her forearms leaning on the island to stare at me expectantly, waiting for my verdict.
There’s a fizz of excitement in my gut, new and unexpected, Lilith’s enthusiasm soaking into my skin like condensation from the air.
I raise the glass to my lips and take a bigger gulp than I mean to. Luc notices and claps their hands, tipping their head to let out a bolshie cackle.
“That’s right, babywings, knock it back like a champion!” they crow, still laughing.
The sweet taste of the Coke registers on my tongue first, but the harsh bite of alcohol comes in fast behind it. My face tics, wincing at the sudden strength and bitterness of the vodka. It takes me a second to discern whether I like either taste. I have to swallow another mouthful just to make sure.
“So, then?” Lilith prompts when I don’t say anything, her black eyes squinting, almost pensive.
“It’s good,” I pronounce, much to the appreciation of both Luc and Lilith. Luc downs another glass, half full of only vodka, and raises the glass up high, toasting me. Lilith, seemingly satisfied with my response, finally pours herself a glass of Coke and vodka. She swallows it down almost as fast as Luc. Neither of them winces despite their far-stronger drinks.
When I finish mine, Lilith pours me another.
Determined to drink without blanching at the aftertaste, I indicate for Lilith to put more vodka in mine, which she does, smirking at me like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Pace yourself,” she tells me. “Angels can still get drunk in their mortal forms.”
“Ah, let her get smashed!” Luc nudges Lilith’s arm. “After all those years stuck doing Mike’s bullshit soul-snatcher work, she deserves to let loose a bit.”
Luc doesn’t even bother with the glass and drinks straight from the bottle. Lilith grabs the bottle from them after a couple of glugs.
“Settle down, you tiny nightmare,” she admonishes Luc.
“There’s like, fifteen more bottles in the fridge,” Luc says, waving her off.
“Not the point.” Lilith holds the vodka bottle out of reach when Luc tries to grab at it. “Come on.” She turns to me again. “Let’s take this shit into the living room.”
Lilith walks off, and I snatch up the remaining cans of Coke before chasing after her. Luc follows, too, after procuring another bottle of vodka from the fridge, and we all settle in the living room. It’s decorated in bright yellows and purples, the sofa ridiculously large and curved like a donut with a chunk bitten out of it.
Lilith chooses a seat in the middle of the donut and encourages me to sit next to her. Luc throws themselves down a little further away from us, bringing their legs up onto the sofa and curling them up underneath them.
We spend the rest of the night drinking and talking, with Luc and Lilith telling me stories from their very long, very immortal lives. At one point, Luc gets out a stack of cards, and they teach me how to play poker. Lilith plugs her phone into some sort of dock system and puts on the playlist we made on the train of all the songs I vaguely agreed to enjoying. WhenGirls Just Want to Have Funcomes on again, and I tell Luc it’s my favourite, they laugh so hard they almost fall off the sofa.
Despite still not really needing to sleep, I start to feel tired around three in the morning. I even yawn, something I don’t think I’ve ever done before. Lilith obviously notices and suggests we lie down for a bit. Luc protests at first, but when Lilith gives them a pointed look, they wave us off towards the stairs.
Lilith offers me her hand, and I take it, threading our fingers together, holding on tight, causing Lilith to offer me one of those smaller, shyer smiles. She leads me upstairs to a room I assume she’s used the previous times she’s stayed over because she seems entirely comfortable in it.
The room looks different from the rest of the house. It’s decorated in dark colours, shades of blue and brown. Thefurniture is more reminiscent of that in Lilith’s Ireland flat, simple and almost certainly secondhand, the style bohemian and well used as seems to be her preference.
Lilith strips down to her underwear and T-shirt and goes to climb onto the large bed. I do the same. Neither of us are bothered by temperature, and we stay on top of the covers. I expect Lilith to keep the distance between us because of my wings, but she tells me to spread them out so she can lie down on top of my outstretched wing. She gives me a chance to refuse, but I don’t, liking the idea of having her close.
I settle in the middle of the bed, and Lilith doesn’t hesitate to fit herself against my side, her curls crushed against my feathers. It isn’t the first time she’s touched them, either on purpose or by accident, but it feels different now than it did before. More intimate, like the trailing of fingers up a naked back in the privacy of a bedroom, rather than out there in the world where everything is a little fractured, brutal and unforgiving. There’s no judgement here, no rules and no orders.
There’s a moment when we’re both staring up at the bed’s canopy, lying on our backs with our arms pressed together from bicep to fingertip. Slowly, I shift my little finger, curling it around Lilith’s, our breathing loud in the silence of the room.
