ADONIS:
It was clear he wasn’t fooling her at all. No amount of manners or pleasantries could hide how bone-weary Adonis was, or how little he wanted to be sitting in this chair right now. It wasn’t entirely personal—he really didn’t want to be around anybody right now, let alone Heaven’s deadliest executioner. All he wanted was to retreat far, far away from everyone and lick the wounds in his heart for a few days. Maybe weeks. Or decades. It certainly felt like the events at The Inferno had eviscerated him so thoroughly, he might need to seclude himself for ten years or so to recover… at least, as much as he could. It might just be impossible for him to recover at this point.
One thing was for sure: he was caught very off-guard by Sanem’s laugh when he mentioned the Coalition, and frankly, he found it a little unnerving. Maybe it was just because he was personally so fed up with the Coalition and the mountain of bullshit their recklessness had just dropped on his head, but he didn’t understand how anyone could find their antics amusing. Still, he merely cleared his throat and nodded when she said she’d keep things brief. The briefer, the better, in his opinion. He had work to do, no matter how exhausting, and frankly he was already feeling far too tense in Sanem’s presence. He couldn’t be blamed for that, though. Even though she now sat relatively at ease, no weapons or armor in sight, it was all too easy to imagine her in battle, wings spread like a statue of Nike, a flaming sword in one hand and the throat of a demon being crushed in her other. The thought alone made him swallow again.
And there was the hammer blow. Sanem spared no feelings, wasted no time in getting right to the heart of the matter. Through it all, Adonis listened, his face schooled into an uncomfortable but relatively pleasant neutrality. It was the same face he’d worn in every council meeting for the last two months, and he was very good at it by now. After all, it was the only shield he had between the volley of her words and the already battered heart in his chest that was writhing under the sting of her accusations. Was it even right to call them “accusations” when they were, for the most part, founded in truth? They hurt nevertheless, and he had to direct himself to keep breathing evenly and blinking like a normal person as the warrior angel continued. If he didn’t, his instincts might have already had him on his feet and pacing restlessly.
He let her finish—not that he believed for a moment that she would have let him interrupt her anyway—and allowed the air between them to grow silent for a few seconds while he mustered his thoughts. For all that he did and had done in his life, Adonis Deerling was neither a coward nor a liar, at least not by choice. He only lied to protect Bunny because his mother’s dying breaths bade him do so. Despite what Rosalia might think, he certainly didn’t lie to himself. And in this scenario, he could see no reason (good or bad) to lie to Sanem. The only thing that made him hesitate was the pure, raw instinct to not talk about his feelings or problems with others. What a bloody mess he was; even now, when a deadly warrior was telling him in no uncertain terms that she wanted him to unload his burdens, he was struggling to do so. What better impetus did he need than the threat of Sanem Aydın demolishing him? So why was it still so fucking hard to do?
“I appreciate your concern, Sanem,” Adonis began, knowing that not speaking at all was not an option. He had to start somewhere. Maybe if he just… started talking, then something coherent would come out. “I know you and Melanie are close, so I’m sure much of what you’ve heard has come from her.” He paused, taking a moment to look at his shoes and contemplate his next words. He didn’t really feel as if he had anything to hide; why, then, did it feel like he was trying to rip a secret out of himself? “Let me start by saying first that, whatever I do in my spare time, I have always endeavored to uphold the highest standards of decorum when it comes to the Council. I do not take my position on it lightly, nor the duty to my people which comes with it. I take my post seriously, and unless I’m very much mistaken, no complaint has ever been lodged against me about my behavior in council sessions. I’ve no doubt that I would have heard about it, since my step-father Howard holds a very high position in the Coalition. Any poor behavior on my part would reflect back on him, and he would not let me off the hook were that the case. You’re free to ask any other members of the council for their thoughts on the matter.”
There, that wasn’t too bad. His mouth was a little dry, but he felt capable of pressing on. “As for my private life, I consider that… well, precisely that. Private, barring exceptional circumstances. Given the treachery of my father and my brother, I’m sure many of our people still hold an unfortunate bias towards my family. I don’t engage with that sort of gossip, nor do I go out of my way to make a fuss or put my family troubles on parade for others to see. Nevertheless, it’s true that these troubles often lead me to privately find means of, for lack of a better term, self-medicating.” At that, he met Sanem’s eyes again, a new-found resilience shining in his own. “But I consider that my burden to bear alone, and unless I have somehow managed to cause harm to another, I don’t feel as though there is anyone who may judge my life save The Almighty.”
THIS LION IS SECURELY COLLARED BY HER NECK, the gilded leash perched within the delicate hand of heavenly purity. The reigns need only tug once to send Sanem’s teeth tearing into the neck of her spoiled prey. She’s always prepared for violence, for punishment. Sanem is more comfortable in the throes of battle with the murky taste of blood, fury, and victory all mixing together inside of her mouth. In her mind, everyone is a battle to be won— a war to be ended. Adonis is neither battle nor war, but she conquers him all the same. He speaks with a kind of attentive eloquence, something akin to the pretty crooning that Sanem has heard daily ever since her creation some thousand years ago. He is right to choose his words carefully within her presence, as it is in no one’s best interest to incur Sanem’s wrath. All of the answers that pour from his lips are endlessly dissected in her mind to unveil the pretty curtain that he uses to hide their true meaning. His fear is present, but he does a decent job at dressing it up and passing it off as courage. However, with eyes envied by hawks, Sanem sees him.
He speaks of his devotion to the council, of his neverending determination to maintain his behavior. She is armed with only rumours, but even Sanem knows that what Adonis is protesting is laced with false truths. She would never have called him here had she not caught wind of his sinful proclivities in the first place. That, and his strange connection with Melanie made this meeting one that was long overdue. Too many red flags popped up to the surface around Adonis, and Sanem was ready to get to the bottom of them.
There is no perfect being save for the Almighty, but it is an angel’s responsibility to mirror it as best as possible. They are holy representatives here on Earth, the deliverers of divine justice for all to succumb to. Whether an angel is born or created they are still a direct reflection of God’s everlasting light. To hear him he speak of privacy as if it something that he is owed only further annoys Sanem and drives her to tighten her palms around the arm of the chair before the polished wood cracks under her strengths. He has been living among the humans for much too long it seems. His mind has become completely befuddled with the glowing notions of privacy and choice that no Angel of Light should ever concern themselves with. They exist for one purpose, and that is to serve.
Adonis’ thought process doesn’t surprise Sanem. Many believe that, as long as their vices do not harm others, it’s fine. Unfortunately, the Angel’s of Light cannot afford to carry around that kind of risk anymore. Their most trusted leaders had been picked apart by lesser beings and now they were at war. Sanem doesn’t have the time to check Adonis’ impulses to ensure they do not place another of their kind in danger. This reckless behavior that he claims have under control is simply bubbling beneath the surface with the intent to later explode. She will never shoulder such a risk.
Sanem allows him to complete his defense before preparing to speak again. Her eyes never leave his own as she gathers her next few words to lash at him with. “I’m sure you have always upheld your decorum. You haven’t the option to do otherwise.” Sanem began with her arms tightly folded across her chest. She needn’t ask any of his fellow council representatives for their opinions as they are likely friends of his who are all but blind to his many faults. “I don’t need to hear any complaints from your peers in order for me to be concerned.” Sanem does not particularly like Adonis, but she is still worried for him. She worries about what his past connections might do to him or lead him to do. She worries that he may weaken their side with his stupidity, and that is why she treats him so harshly.
“You have no privacy.” It’s a stinging truth that few of their kind liked to accept. They like to enjoy eternal life, they enjoy to cosmic liquid that spill from Raziel’s cup, but they do not enjoy being subordinates. They like to rebel and get drunk off their dreams of having more, of being more. It’s pathetic to Sanem. There’s nothing worse in this world than a greedy soul. “Kill that idea. Kill the notion that anything you do that is outside of our gaze is unknown, because it isn’t. Regardless of your traitorous kin, you are watched. “Sanem seldom thinks of Raphael unless those images are of him being eviscerated. He too was once a cherished creation of the Almighty until his disappointing descent. Only time would tell if Adonis would follow his brother out of the warmth of God’s light.
His admission is shrouded in honesty, but Sanem cannot help but feel like it is, instead, clothed in a veil of indifference. “No one is judging you. These are merely concerns.” She answers again cooly, her hostility diminishing for a brief moment as she spoke. “What you fail to realize is that nothing is private. If I have caught wind of your insolence, then it is not being carried out in private, is it?” He’s careless and Sanem knows it (or thinks she knows it, rather). “You are not a human, Adonis. You are heavenly energy and you exist for a reason. We are at war with our enemies, which means that we cannot afford to be at war with ourselves.” She speaks to him like any teacher might to their least progressive student. This is no longer a little game between bickering species. This is a fight that has reached a stalemate with so few time left for either side to side to topple. “I will not judge you as it not my place to do so, but I will ensure that your behavior does not hinder us. I don’t wish to hear more about your activities in the future.”
