Dante

I try —and really really try— to not let my mind stew over those words too much. I try my best to forget them. I even direct my anger towards Azrael. 

And that's the problem, I am angry now. I was sad for so long, immersed in my own suffering, and basking in it, thinking that I was an absolute idiot. That everything that had happened with my ex was my fault. 

And somehow that confrontation with Azrael had unleashed a new feeling in me, and now anger was everywhere. Indignation, but because I felt like I didn't deserve all that suffering. I didn't deserve to be cheated on, to be tricked, to be deceived.

And I was not an idiot for sacrificing myself for someone I loved. 

I had it backwards and that made me angry. I acted on good intentions, and I was wronged. And that was not acceptable. 

You're on your way to feeling better already.

What did he know?

He probably walked out of my little corner and forgot all about me again.

A tiny voice in the back of my head insists none of this is Azrael's fault but I decide to ignore it.

Anger makes me feel alive again, and gives me purpose. 

I will be okay in spite of what was done to me. Of how badly I was treated. Or the deception and the unfaithfulness and the abandonment.

I would be okay. More than okay. 

I would be great.

—

In Hell there is no morning, afternoon or night, but Azrael apparently likes the change in lighting coming through the stained glass windows so he makes it look like the day passes. Some weird demon magic. 

The rays of light dance brightly against the stone walls, fueled by the “morning” light, and my mind is racing. I am very aware of a cluster of people looking at me and whispering among themselves. Probably because of what happened the day before. And the fact that they have never seen me in any posture other than sitting on a bench looking at candles that will never go out. 

I want to call them on their obvious gossipping, but I refrain. Instead I walk past them, and  approach the entrance of the cathedral. The larger-than-life wooden doors offer some resistance but I manage to open them, and I take a peek outside, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the change in lighting.

Azrael's domain expands to the iron fence that surrounds the cathedral, delimiting a very extensive area. All around there's open space with intricately carved stone flooring, and there are several benches to sit, and even a structure similar to a gazebo, adorned with plants and flowers.

I have barely been outside. The first few days I arrived, while I was looking for a quiet place to be, I walked the grounds, deciding in the end to stay inside the cathedral. Not because of any weather conditions —there was no cold or hot weather here. I think it was because the flames of the candles soothed me.

But I am sick of sitting around in mourning. I am determined to make myself feel better, and to stop mulling over whatever happened in my mortal life. 

And it starts with taking a walk.

One of the things Azrael told me when he brought me to his domain was that I can’t go past the courtyard gates. Like, physically can’t. If I ever tried, I would be brought back inside the cathedral. Only he is allowed to come and go as he pleases, but from what I’ve heard the other residents say, he rarely goes out of his territory.

I am lost in thought wondering why he decided to make a Christian building his residence when a booming voice starts to sound all around the area, like magically amplified.

”Gather at the entrance of the cathedral please. I have an important announcement to make.”

Curious, I make the short way over to the steps that rise towards the big doors of the building, and as time passes more and more people approach, talking animatedly, wondering what this is about. Most of them look at me with varying expressions of surprise and confusion, but I ignore them.

Azrael goes through the wooden doors, which open magically to let him out. He stands before us, looking as put together as always, and I am briefly transfixed by the way the artificially created sunshine reflects on his white hair. He looks at us with something akin to fondness, clears his throat, and everyone quiets at once.

“Dear souls of mine. This is a really special day for me, and I hope it will be for you too,” he pauses and smiles, showing a row of pointed teeth, before adding, “I am feeling so good that I decided that we’re gonna have a celebration tonight. A ball. And of course, everyone is welcome to have a grand time and dance their feet off,” he pauses, with mischief written on his face, “Not literally though, blood is really hard to get off stone.”

No one reacts at first, but then Azrael giggles, actually giggles, and everyone bursts into laughter almost at once. I am conflicted between laughing and staring at the way the demon’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs. Makes my gut clench with annoyance.

A few of the residents get closer to Azrael to ask him questions about the ball, it seems, and he patiently answers them all. He looks joyful, which irritates me even more, because he should feel bad for calling me out on my behavior before. I was entitled to feel bad, and sure, I don’t want to do that anymore, but he has no right to come and make me feel things. It is infuriating. I have been through enough, I don’t need a nosy demon going over my affairs.

Before I know what I’m about to say, my voice rings in the open courtyard, “Are we forced to attend?”

Silence.

Several heads turn to look at me with bewilderment. Others look confused. Others look horrified.

I breathe in and out through my nose, trying hard not to fidget at the sudden attention on myself.

Azrael turns to look at me, curious. Not angry, or confused. Not flustered. Curious.

I want to punch him.

”Of course you are not forced to attend, don’t be silly. But I assure you, you’ll have a great time.” And he has the audacity to wink at me.

I have never been a violent person, but here, in this moment, I need to punch him.

But I don’t. I nod, and I decide this has wasted my time long enough, so I walk away towards the gazebo. Chatter resumes once I am a few feet away from the crowd, but I pay them no mind.

I try not to look back but I cave in the end, and I can see Azrael looking at me.

And he’s smiling.

I want to wipe that smile off his face.

—

Azrael

I close the door to my quarters behind me and walk to the window. The gazebo is visible in the distance, and I can see him picking at the flowers, plucking the petals one by one with jerky movements.

I've never felt so alive.