Inky ^beta

Pure never thought that returning to the shack could be so relieving. It was strange to find comfort in a place so morbid, and especially strange to enjoy the company of a man crawling with death like fleas. He tried to argue with himself, that he’d have to grow used to anyone he was tethered to; still he knew that no one else was as fascinating, as riveting, or as peculiar. Sure, the role of a personal guardian angel was rarely an easy task; if it meant being attached to Brutal by the hip, he didn’t exactly mind.

His plans to tidy up the place were quickly thwarted by the freak’s unnaturally soft voice, and a tug on his white sleeve. “Can I show ya somethin’?”

“Of course,” Pure followed his lead, sitting on the mattress and staring with the same perplexed, glimmering doe eyes. “Une surprise pour moi?”

“It ain’t much..” Brutal declared sheepishly, slipping the wood carving replica of the dreaming angel from behind his back.

Even Pure’s gasp was much more than what its artist had expected. “It’s beautiful.. I’ve never received anything like this before. Merci!” His gloves traced over the ridges in the wood, each one more impressive than the last. It was true that he’d never received a gift so personal- or any gift, really, aside from the lord’s blessings on Christmas. The gift from Brutal was a much greater prize; the devout part of him failed to say otherwise. Before he’d even noticed he was leaning in for a hug, much to the confused freak’s horror. Clearly, affection was new territory for both of them. After the initial bewilderment Brutal reciprocated the hug, if only to downplay the effort he’d put into the gift. “..Just another hobby. Ya were holdin’ still, thought I’d try a live carvin’. Nothin’ special.”

It was much more special to Pure, who was still staring at it long after the freak had shoved him away. Rather abruptly, the intricacies of it gave him an idea. “You should focus on this more.. you are quite talented, and it is a wonderful hobby.” It would be a small step towards forgiveness, he reasoned, to have a different outlet for his emotions than his weapons. “I cannot thank you enough, I will…” The angel scanned the tiny room, ultimately deciding to lean over and place it on his own table. “keep it close.”

“Then.. I’ll make sure ‘ta keep the real one closer.”

Brutal’s words held much more weight than any scripture the holy one had ever heard. He thought about them long after the conversation, even more distressed by the cauldron of unholy feelings within him than he already was. As soon as the freak went back to crafting a new shank, Pure grasped at anything to distract himself. First, he tried to pray; the sound of Brutal’s weaponry was much too overbearing. He pulled the pocket bible from the inside of his suit jacket next; glossing through it made his stomach churn.

This was it. The angel started to panic; everything Brutal did was blasphemous, and he’d be slowly dragged to hell in his carnage until the flames burned the wings from his spine. This was all a deluded nightmare, divine punishment for a lackluster life of servitude to be put out of his misery. The lulls of peace, the temptations of Brutal’s sins, the desire to keep him just as close… They were all part of the calm before the storm of his demise.

He didn’t bother waiting for Brutal to fall asleep before he staggered outside, on feet that walked only by force and wings that stubbornly refused to cooperate. Every inch of him trembled, though he hoped the unease was the weight of his lord’s gaze. He clasped his hands together, this time looking towards the heavens beyond the moon directly.

“Mon Dieu, pardonnez-moi…” Pure hummed into his hands, failing to give his redemption any merit and only falling back on an excuse. “He is so captivating, alluring.. Il est bien plus gentil avec moi que n'importe quel homme pour qui j’ai prié dans le passé. Surtout pour un homme qui commet des actes aussi violents. Il m'a tenu si chaleureusement... m'a sauvé, S'il te plaît, pardonnez-moi.”

He finally took a deep breath, and the weight on his shoulders lifted. He felt power again, the lord’s grace washing over him and melting his worries away. It felt like flying; possibly because he was flying again, levitating just off the ground and relieving the horrible feeling of walking on his feet. The angel would’ve thanked the stars a thousand times, if Brutal hadn’t come outside to interrupt him just in time.

“Aw, wings flutterin’ again, huh?” The freak leaned against his shack, laughing in quiet huffs to himself at the idea of Pure relying on repentance until his last breath. “Was just gonna show ya another way ‘ta feel like yer flyin’.”

“Oh?” The angel started to question, though Brutal didn’t explain himself and instead led him back in the direction of the closest town. There was something eerie about following the killer in the dark of the night; he was never up to any good, but whatever he was up to this late at night must’ve been especially dangerous. Still, true to his word, Pure just followed. After all, there wasn’t much he could do to protest; if it came down to it, Brutal would just throw him over his shoulder and move along, not that he minded that. The holy one shut down that thought quickly.

With civilization in sight, the freak made a beeline for the only liquor store left in town. The streets were desolate, save for the lonely beater parked behind the gas station and the dim lights signaling the tiny liquor shop across the poorly paved road was open.

“Attend..” Pure finally gathered the courage to speak up, halting Brutal in his tracks by taking one of his hands into his own. “Please, just this once, do not kill anyone. They are innocent, I looked after them.. Before being assigned to you.”

“Yer adorable, thinkin’ everyone’s so innocent..” He could’ve argued, could’ve snapped at the angel for going against his promise not to interfere; instead, he squeezed Pure’s daintier hand back. “Don’t worry, I ain’t puttin’ up a fight tonight. Just gonna steal a few things, thas all.”

Pure found himself somehow pleased with that answer, until the freak startled him by busting the door of the liquor shop off its hinges. Truthfully, he would’ve been more surprised if Brutal was true to his word and managed to leave without bloodshed; yet somehow he did it, barreling out of the store with a heaping bag of- albeit stolen- bottles in one hand and chugging another bottle with the other. He didn’t even seem to notice the blaring alarm behind him, loud enough to wake up the entire town; while the angel tried to cover his ears, the freak passed him the bag.

“Could ya hold these?” The weight of the bag made Pure sink slightly to the ground as he complied, grumbling prayers under his breath as Brutal reached into his back pocket and flipped open a cheap- also stolen- pack of cigarettes. “Ya want one, angel?”

“Absolutely not!” The angel pouted, emphasizing the point with an especially stubborn flap of his wings.

“Hmm, figures..” If only to get on Pure’s nerves, the freak made sure to blow his first puff of smoke in his direction as he passed by. He’d only achieved the opposite effect; the smoke seemed to wrap around Pure’s heart and pull at its strings, an indirect kiss directly from the brute's mouth. The angel couldn’t help it; even when Brutal tried to be an asshole, he was too captivating to look away from.

By then there was a new car at the gas station, and the man driving had already wandered inside for a midnight snack. It was the perfect opportunity for the freak to carry out his plans, strolling across the empty road and smashing the driver side window with his elbow. Once he’d fidgeted with the door enough to unlock it, he opened the passenger door first.

“Get in. Seat’s all yours, love.”

Even as Pure lowered to the ground to climb in, the butterflies in his stomach continued to flutter. “I have never been in one of these before..”

“Ya never been on a proper joyride before, either. A first time for everythin’!” Brutal hadn’t driven in a while; of course, his angel companion didn’t need to know that.

“What is a..?” Before he could ask, the freak slammed the door and raced to the other side of the car. “Nevermind. We must use this, yes?” He tugged on the end of the seatbelt as Brutal sat down, laughing so hard he nearly hit the wheel.

“Fuck! Thas a good one.” Once again, Pure’s question remained unanswered. “Hold on tight. Hell, yer free ‘ta hold onta me if things get messy.”

The angel made the dire mistake of misconstruing his slow turn onto the main road as caution. “Brutal? What do you-”

The force of sudden acceleration well past the speed limit threw him back against his seat, grabbing anything for security; he’d reached one hand towards the door, and the other held a death grip on Brutal’s arm.

"Slow down, s'il vous plait! This is much too fast!” Pure yelped, nearly screamed to get the freak’s attention.

“Aw, c’mon- live a little!” Just as he spoke, a bump in the road sent them flying.

“I am very well alive, thank you!” The angel scrambled for his seatbelt, this time not bothering to ask for Brutal’s advice. That only amused him further, pushing the pedal to the metal as soon as he heard the seatbelt click.

“Brutal one, stop this! We will..” While he knew he wouldn’t die, the same couldn’t be promised for the freak with a death wish. “..You will die!”

“Might as well go out with a bang!” It couldn’t possibly be worse than anything he’d already felt, he reasoned without admitting. “Besides, yer havin the time ‘f yer life.” One hand on the wheel, he reached down to roll the window on the angel’s side down.

“I most certainly..” The winds at this speed were harsh, whipping past his face and ruffling feathers practically glued to the seat. Yet it was somehow exhilarating; he took a deep breath, and the adrenaline felt like soaring.

“What’d I tell ya?” Brutal only kept one eye on the road, paying close attention as the angel’s grip on his arm loosened, then slid to his shoulder and disappeared towards the cup holder between them. “That ain’t yer fancy blood wine, y’know.”

“I am well aware,” Pure chided, swirling the bottle by its neck curiously before tipping it for an experimental sip- one that didn’t last very long, he nearly spit the beer across the dashboard as soon as it reached his lips. “How do you drink this? C’est poubelle..”

“What, it ain’t good enough for ya? How ‘bout this!” The freak swerved straight off the road without a warning, throwing the angel against his door with the force. The sharp turn soon became a spin, then a series of endless donuts in the desert sand like a carnival ride. Much to Brutal’s amazement, Pure started to loosen up; maybe it was the single drop of booze, or the thrill of it all, but he was sure he heard giggling somewhere in the mix of tires screeching and the engine roaring.

Sure enough, he saw just that as he looked over; Pure was finally enjoying himself, having burst into uncontrollable laughter and glowing with a smile more intoxicating than the liquor that the freak had already chugged. Brutal knew, in that moment, that he needed to see that smile again. And he knew just how to get it.

“Ah, piss!” He shouted over the car in mock horror, catching the angel’s puzzled gaze as he pointed in the direction of the gas station dumpster they were spiraling towards. “We’re gonna crash!”

This was his chance to protect the brute- or at least, he was allowed to believe so, acting in the blink of an eye to scoop Brutal from his seat by his shoulders and launch them both out of the window just in time to avoid the oncoming collision. It was, of course, nothing diabolical- no dramatic explosions or acts of manslaughter like the freak usually preferred, but it terrified his guardian angel into action nonetheless. He’d done his duty, for once! As the realization sank in, they sank to the desert below; Pure could only carry him in the air for so long.

“Fuck! Angel, ya saved me!” Brutal was an absolutely abysmal actor; fortunately, his guardian didn’t seem to notice.

Pure sank to the ground beside him, still catching the breaths he’d let slip from his lungs; the scene of the crash smelled pungently of burnt rubber, and sounded like his pounding heartbeat. “You.. you are unbelievable!” He scowled momentarily, slipping into a contagious smile as Brutal fell back in his laughter and he exasperatedly followed.

“I can live with ‘at,” the freak murmured; Pure could’ve never imagined his voice could get so soft. The arm that wrapped around his waist was just as graceful, holding him there in dangerous, heart throbbing proximity. With their foreheads pressed together their laughter eventually faded into entrancing stares, a moment Brutal never wanted to leave; unfortunately, it was the angel who shoved him away, near frantically floating off the ground to create distance.

“A-ah! Well, we should make sure the car is alright.” Adjusting the cross around his neck he hovered towards the stolen vehicle, staring at it though his mind was obviously elsewhere. Brutal, in his disappointment, simply scoffed and stomped past towards the unlooted convenience store. “Brutal one..?” The angel squeaked, struck suddenly with regret he couldn’t quite comprehend until his driver returned with a bag stuffed with stolen chocolates. “Oh, chocolat! You shouldn’t have..”

“Anything for you, princess..” Brutal grumbled, tossing the bag across the seats as he climbed into the driver’s seat and revved the barely working engine.

“Why must you call me that?”

“‘Cuz yer adorable.. Prissy princess says what?”

“What?” Pure didn’t have to admit that Brutal’s words strummed his heartstrings like a guitar; the blush covering his cheeks did exactly that for him. “Oh.. you are not funny!”

Before the deity could look away Brutal had grabbed his chin, holding him there to witness the grin Pure furiously tried to fight back. “Look on ya face says otherwise.”

“Mm.. Brutal?” The angel could only fight back a smile for so long, for he was more grateful than he was stubborn. “Thank you, I had fun. I have never.. I never truly had the chance to do anything simply for entertainment.”

The freak’s insides felt like mush, hardly the hardened beast he strived to be. Even his grip started to slip back towards the wheel. “..’M glad. Ya deserve ta let loose, ya know. I imagine watchin’ over these borin’ drongos drives ya mad.”

“Oh, and what makes you think you are so much better?!” The angel jabbed, giggling all the while.

“Aw, c’mon! A few corpses gotta be better than watchin’, what? Some shitheads wipe their arse, a bitch gettin’ shagged before marriage?”

At least pretending to be offended, Pure gave him a light shove against the door. “You are terrible! Though, I must admit.. You are much more intriguing.”

Brutal’s own smile was a rarity. “I had fun too, love.”

The angel seemed to hesitate, staring off for a moment and contemplating something difficult. “..One last question, if I may.”

“Feelin’ mighty chatty, ain’tcha? Hit me.” When Pure seemed perplexed by the response, he realized his error. “Nah- not literally, Jesus. I mean go on.”

“Well..” Even if he didn’t need sleep, it was becoming much harder for the immortal one to fight it. “Do you-” A yawn stubbornly escaped as he sank lower into the seat. “Enjoy my company as well?”

Brutal had no clue what to say to that. There was the headstrong response of of course not, but by then that was entirely untrue. The truthful answer was that he’d grown fond of the angel, his angel. He just couldn’t say it. “Darl’..” Emotions had never been such a tricky subject for him, partially because he’d never faced them; now he was a beet red mess. “It’s been ah- awhile, since.. I had anyone ‘ta fuck around with like this.” Avoiding eye contact, his eyes trained on the steering wheel as he tried to breathe and fiddled with the outer ring of leather. “I suppose, w-well-” Every time he stuttered, even more embarrassment kicked in; he felt utterly powerless, a man slaying monster defeated by a simple question. “..Shit. I-”

He suddenly felt a bump against his shoulder. In his flustered state it made him flinch, glancing over to see the angel fast asleep and leaned against him. The freak wouldn’t dare to move him, instead shifting his weight carefully so he could drive them into a cave just off the road. Once he’d pulled the key from the ignition and the headlights shut off he’d kick the seat back, bringing Pure closer and wrapping him in his black vest for warmth; it was starting to become a bad habit, he had to admit. He couldn’t really help it, there was something soothing about holding the angel in his arms, keeping him all to himself.. He was starting to question who was really the guardian here.

“Tu es gentil..” The sleepy murmur from Pure caught him off guard again, barely above a whisper. Brutal only wished he could understand. “Oui, j’aimerais plus de chocolat..”

“Shh,” the freak whispered back, beginning to doze off as well. “I’ll get ya all the chocolate ya want, love..”