Now everything is like my heart,

a color at the edge of blood:

the grey of your absence, the color of poison, of thorns,

the gold when we meet, the season ablaze,

the yellow of autumn, the red of flowers, of flames,

and the black when you cover the earth

with the coal of dead fires.

And the sky, the road, the glass of wine?

The sky is a shirt wet with tears,

the road a vein about to break,

and the glass of wine a mirror in which

the sky, the road, the world keep changing.

Don't leave now that you're here-

Stay. So the world may become like itself again:

so the sky may be the sky,

the road a road,

and the glass of wine not a mirror, just a glass of wine."

***

The rain has just stopped for a moment. Kye shakes violently due to the cold wind blowing on her wet hair and body. Michael catches a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye, and the sight makes him frown. He checks his watch and then tilts his head to whisper something in one of the men's ears. The guy walks to the car and comes back with an oatmeal-colored blanket. He then throws it on top of Kye.

She looks up in surprise and quickly wraps the fabric around her body. It's still not warm enough but better than before.

They hear the sound of several cars approaching. In front of the line is a moss-green jeep. Two guys come out of it. One holds a black lockbox. Michael turns back and walks over to where Kye still crouches on the ground. He sighs, then grabs her elbows and lifts her on her feet. She can imagine how his hands feel under these leather gloves. They are always cool, cold even, but get warmed up almost instantly every time they touch her skin. They are strong, clean, and filled with angelic grace that makes her skin prickle. When their eyes meet fully for the first time, Kye can see a mixture of emotions in his that she can't quite read. They're gone before she knows it, and there stands Michael the archangel again, completely unexpressive.

"Michael..."

Kye searches his face for something that's not there anymore. She holds on to the hope that somewhere inside, he's not as unaffected as he seems. Michael still holds on to her elbows, a little longer than necessary. His face is inches away from her. She can see his long eyelashes flutter, shadowing his stormy blue eyes. His full lips slightly curve at the corners, beckoning, and his scent, something so fresh and clean like the air after the rain, under a mixture of mint and cedar, is so familiar and intoxicating that she can't help but leans into it a little. Michael tilts his head and gazes into her eyes the way he usually does when something puzzles or intrigues him. She always finds the gestures innocent and lovely, especially when they're complemented by hundreds of random questions that are somehow out of his knowledge, and a lot of times, hers as well. Right now, they just send chills to her bones because she can see nothing in them, no warmth, passion, or curiosity, nothing but a silent threat. You will do what I say and stay quiet, or else. He looks at her in the way a superior being would look at an inferior one, the way someone would study an insect to decide if it should be squished. The way angels look at humans. Before Kye can say anything else, Michael puts two fingers on her forehead. A zap of energy shot through her skin, and everything goes dark after that.

***

"Ok, girls, form a line."

An extremely tall and skinny man in a neat black suit with a stony expression looked down on a group of 5 young girls trying their best to contain their excitement and nervousness at the same time. They were barely out of their teenage. Pitiful little things, some of them could be discarded after 1 or 2 months if the master grew tired of them or something else happened.

"A domesticated companion," delicately stated, was a hybrid of a toy and a servant. Some girls here were mere housemaids and errand runners, hardly noticed or remembered. They were the lucky ones. Their daily duties were simple, and at the end of each month, they would receive their salary with no problems. Those who received more rewards, naturally, had to take a little more risks.

Sometimes, the angel master would show interest in a specific domesticated companion for some reason. If the human was called for more often, it meant a higher pay grade with additional perks for them: personal car rides and protection anywhere the human wanted to go, a generous daily allowance, nice clothes, and good food, even servants at their disposal. However, these things could also mean that the human was their master's favorite punching bag. Daily verbal abuse was the norm, and superficial injuries were expected. With angelic grace, anything could be fixed, so nothing was worth the concern.

Angels with their eternal existence sometimes suffered from extreme boredom or doubts. They were taught to never lose faith and always obey orders, but when they were stationed on Earth and God had been absent for a while, even the most obedient angels started to lose themselves. They became unpredictable, either became more human-like in the way they thought and acted, or became completely unhinged. Their lack of empathy and Heavenly powers were a deadly combination. There were cases of dead or missing servants and domesticated companions, some badly damaged or burnt-out bodies found here and there, but there was not much the police could do. Their hands were tight with the laws made by the Council as if the angels actually needed laws to protect them.

Some people would immediately regret their decision after signing up, but once a boy or a girl put down his or her signature and fingerprints on the contract, that was it. There was no going back. The money was deposited into the person's account right away, and it was nonreversible. What people decided to do with it was entirely up to them. The angels looked down on the concept of money entirely. They could never fully understand humans' desperation for those dirty, worthless pieces of paper or numbers in the bank account. And don't even think about running away. After all, where would you run? The city was surrounded by a 1000 feet tall wall that looked deceptively beautiful, made of a material that looked like glass on a white steel frame, shiny in the sun, but heavily guarded by both human soldiers and angels, equipped with hundreds of automatic guns and cameras with a built-in facial recognition program. It was also a giant shocking device at 2300 Voltage, 15 amps that would kill in contact when other security measures failed. Everyone would need permission to get in and out of the city. Outside of the wall were miles and miles of nothing but ruins of the old world before the War.

Kye looked up at Mr. Bailey, the staff manager, with her tired face. She didn't sleep a wink last night, partly because of the new job which she didn't know what to expect, and partly because of Ruby's disappearance a few days ago. She worried about the girl and her whereabouts, her mom's health, and her brother's tantrum after discovering that Ruby was gone. Bailey gave Kye an intimidating look that made her eyes drop to the floor immediately.

"Settle down," Bailey said to the girls. "I know today is your first day, but don't think I would be lenient to any of you. Mistakes are not tolerated. The loft doesn't require a lot of attendants, so you would be rotated for the time being until I receive further instructions." He cleared his throat. "That's it for now. You will receive your uniforms and name tags in a moment." He concluded the speech and dismissed them with a wave of his hands.

The rotation schedule was made based on the alphabetical order of their last name initials. Kye's last name was Adlin, so she was the first to work. She had received the document on what she needed to know about the angel she would serve. Besides who he was, his schedule for the day, and some basic requirements, there was nothing else. Based on his schedule, her job should be an easy one. She would be on her own until the angel came back at 6 p.m. He wouldn't need to eat so there was no cooking required. She would wait to be called on if he needed something, other than that, make herself invisible and stay clear of the second level of the loft when he was back.

It took her half of the morning to clean the whole main area, first and second levels. It was very spacious and clean but voided any furniture besides a big white couch and a white, round marble coffee table in front of the fireplace. There were no decorations whatsoever. Everything was in white, probably to resemble Heaven. As a matter of fact, even the doors, kitchen appliances, and staircase were white. Kye felt like she was in the middle of nothing. The whole place felt ethereal but empty and cold. All the rooms were locked beside the servant's room on the lower level. After finishing her task, she stayed in it, knowing the archangel won't be back anytime soon. Still, she kept the room door open so she could hear if he came in early. She was supposed to greet and say goodbye to him every time he came in or left the place. Bothersome, but not hard to do. Despite her best effort, after a while, her eyes started to get heavy. She fell fast asleep and missed the rustle of wings and clothes.

***

Michael wraps Kye a little more tightly in the blanket and lifts her as gently as he can. He carries her toward the men standing on the opposite side. As if on cue, two of them come forward with the lockbox. One man gives it to Michael's men while his partner removes Kye from Michael's arms and carries her to their Jeep.

It takes everything in Michael's power not to follow the guy and smite him. He supposed he could demand her back, but the trade needs to be done. The angel part in Michael—the part of duty and responsibility, of logic and practicality—makes sure that he follows through and forbids him to show any weakness, but it's hard. Oh, it's hard to find someone he wants to give everything to, part of himself included, just to get this in return.

Besides God, none of Michael's siblings receives the same commitment. Michael commits to the Host of Heaven as a whole and to his duty because he has to, but he doesn't commit to any individual angel. The act of grace sharing is rare and strongly discouraged for a reason. It is the ultimate type of bond and sacrifice that will last for eternity. Kye knew the weight of all that and then turned around and betrayed him. It would be a lie to say Michael was not angry and disappointed. He was hurt. Still is. The old him would've smitten Kye the moment he discovered what she did, but one look in her eyes, and his armor crumbled.

That's why Michael refused to see Kye, to hear her plead. Everyone has to take responsibility for what they did. She had to, and so did him.

***

"No, no, it's not your turn." Kye took the dice from Michael's hand and threw them on the game board.

"Why not?"

"Because you rolled doubles to get out of jail, you don't get to take this turn."

"You took a turn right after getting out of jail last time. What is the difference?"

"I took the free card. Remember?"

Michael squeezed his eyes and tilted his head.

"This game is confusing, to say the least. Who made the rules? Why do humans like it so much?"

"You'll get a hang of it in no time. In real life, not everyone has the money and power to invest, buy, and sell properties, so we like to pretend sometimes. It is fun." She collected all the pieces into the box. "Lunchtime is almost over. Don't you have a meeting with the Council this afternoon, Master?"

Michael was still deep in thought, staring at the little man with a white mustache and top hat on the game box. Kye chuckled at the sight and went around the table to put her hand on his shoulder. Michael looked up at her.

"Did you have lunch?" He asked.

"I will in a moment, Master."

"You can go ahead. I will get ready for the meeting."

Kye smiled at him and turned away, but before she could stand up, Michael pulled her back toward him. His hand slid down from her wrist, their palms met, and their fingers interlocked instinctively. He gently combed his other hand through her hair, from behind her ear down to the side of her neck, then pulled her face closer.

The kiss was unexpected, gentle, and deep. He didn't close his eyes but kept them slightly open to take in the sight of her up close, the soft brown curls that framed her face, the light freckles on her cheeks and nose tip, the dark eyelashes fluttered, and the faint dimples when she smiled on his lips. Even when Michael slowly pulled away, his eyes lingered on her. Kye looked like a child waking up from a happy dream, and the sight put a smile on his face. Eventually, he let go of her and stood up.

"I'll see you later."

He said before turning away and walking upstairs. Kye's eyes followed him until he disappeared behind the office's double door. Her heart was full, and her mind was in a haze.

***

Michael leans back in his chair and looks up at the large mural of Heaven and Earth in harmony on the ceiling. The colors are lively, and the details are perfect, but of course, this is just how it looks in the human imagination. God was in the middle, glorified by his golden halo and surrounded by the angels. Under them was Earth with all of its inhabitants. He can see the depiction of himself and all of his siblings facing God and looking at him in absolute adoration while their Father and Creator looked downward to Earth and extended his hands to the creatures below.

If God's will is for the angels to love all of his creations equally and selflessly, why is it so hard for the First Born to do so? At first, he could not understand why God would want him to love these new, naked, and primitive creatures more than himself and the angels, more than God even, but being a good son, he tried. Now, with the new feelings he has experienced, spreading like wildfire in his heart, how can he love everything equally? The truth is, he doesn't know, and he doubts that anyone would ever fully understand God's will. They are all in the dark together, angels and humans alike.

Michael nurses a cup of Scotch in his hand. Angels don't eat or drink, but he feels the need to do so in times like this. Even knowing or hoping it is just a temporary situation, he can't help but feel the void in his heart. He has been in his office since he got back from the exchange. The alcohol doesn't give him any effects that he wants. He knows the bottles he has in the office are like drops in the ocean compared to what he needs to really get drunk, but the familiar warmth and bitterness rolling past his tongue give him some comfort.

The vessel that he currently wears is one of a few that were brought to him right after they announced the War was officially over. The angels had gone through vessels like water during the War. Michael, even more so. Even when humans didn't really know what ticked or weren't equipped with the right weapons, they managed to cause some casualties. If the angels were not killed but wounded mortally during battles that they would need some time to heal, they would just ditch their vessels and move on to the new ones. The vessels might not be perfect, but they weren't needed for long. Normally, to enter a body, an angel needed to get permission from the human soul inside, one way or another, but the War created a lot of dead bodies. That equals vacancies, and the angels just took advantage of that.

Michael's last vessel had been badly damaged to the point of being unusable. The new ones were all chosen from designated bloodlines or got strengthened to contain his grace. They were supposed to be his permanent or semi-permanent ones during the times he would be stationed on Earth.

Every garrison would take turns to patrol the planet for two centuries before returning to Heaven. As their leader, Michael would stay twice as long.

Wearing a vessel brought a lot of new sensations. Touch, sight, smell, hearing, and taste were overwhelming when they got activated all at once. The angels operated on a different level of energy and perception compared to humans, so naturally, their physical senses were not the same as humans. It was the same as hearing a sound on land versus while diving underwater. The angels had to tune out a lot of irrelevant statics and noises they could detect in the whole universe to focus on the important information. Michael understood that physical senses are necessary to operate in a physical world, but to him, they were also vices and doorways to sins and temptations. He determined to keep himself above all that. Michael's world was black and white. His soul was a frozen lake, clear and reflective, but cold and rigid. It had been the same for eons and would continue to stay that way until someone threw a stone in, and the ice broke.

***

Michael opens the red box lying on the desk in front of him with one touch and gently traces his fingers on the item inside. It looks like a short stick made of the same red mahogany wood as the box it's kept in. Enochian symbols are carved from one end to the other and on two opposite sides of the item. They light up following the touch of Michael. He picks the item up, and the whole thing beams. The light starts to pulsate like heartbeats, reacting to the source of its grace nearby. The item then expands on both ends until it quadruples in length and a shiny celestial steel blade appears. Michael holds the lance in his hand and feels its power vibrates.

Notes:

I'm building up the whole angel/human relationship. This story is a slow burn, so I should have time to develop the chemistry. I really don't want to rush. I also have no ideas on how to write love scenes lol but I do like to read them in other people's works and def want to add them to the story more often. At the end of the day, this story is supposed to be a love story. I'm still thinking of how to go about the whole "sex with the angel" thing. Let's see how it goes :D I don't feel 100% with this chapter, but I will find a way to improve on the next one. Having no plans and letting the story lead you might not be the best idea after all :D Just hope I can make a solid story.

There are a lot of conflicting information about who is the first angel created, Michael or Lucifer, even Supernatural show couldn't get their story straight through the seasons so I will stick with Michael as the First Born since it suits his personality and, to be honest, IDK if Lucifer will be in this story at this moment.

The poem is Before You Came by Faiz Ahmed (or Ahmad) Faiz, a Pakistani poet, and translated by Agha Shahid Ali. I think it's beautiful and sets the tone for the chapter.

Before you

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