An Archangel's Common Sense

Azel felt heavy, despite going to earth every millennium for a period of time. He still couldn't get used to the weird feeling. Arriving on earth felt like being dunked with a bucket of water and staying for a longer period felt like being submerged in it. He knew it was only natural to be given this treatment given the Creator's restriction placed on them otherwise known as the Angels' ruler. One day though, he hoped it would change.

Regardless, he had come earlier than the agreed time to get used to the pressure.

Azel knew that Micheal would be able to find his location. Though for convenience he had decided to stay in the middle of nowhere meadows. He based this location on careful consideration of the fact that Micheal's arrival had never really been what could be called discrete.

Can't blame him seeing as he had crossed the Archangel's boundaries in their first meeting, it was only a given he would have a temper in the following occasions they had to meet.

Rolling his eyes, Azel turned his attention towards the window to see the flowers.

Through the large balcony windows, sunlight poured in which caused the walls of the room to lighten up.

Azel lazily sat up to the edge of the bed squinting with a bit of irritation. Even with preparation, he had always been a little reluctant to go to the earthen world to sign on the Demon races' behalf the treaty of Coexistence that needed to be renewed every millennium.

Who made him be the first and only son ever created by Asmonde. Such an honor. Right now Azel just felt like sleeping for a couple of years. Yet he knew despite all his complaints, he will inevitably still come to earth. He wouldn't miss his chance of seeing Micheal nor would he pass the chance to the others.

The task every time was to resign the treaty between the two races. As every time the treaty was close to an end, demons and angels would get restless.

Demons would try to push their luck in the pursuit of their obsessions with some being the Angels' wings and souls. Angels would return the favor with the start of what is known as the hunting games. The goal at the end was to see who could collect the most demon nuclei. These reasons were why both signing representatives had to be the strongest in their race, so as not to feel threatened.

Thinking of which, he tapped groggily on his chest where his core laid.

Azel never worried for himself, he even had his own angelic trophies, collected throughout his thousands of years alive. It was more like he couldn't wait for Micheal to find him. His early meet-up had been accepted for the first time after all.

It seemed like it'd take a while.

*CRASH!*

Or not.

He's arrived.

Micheal stood in the middle of the broken glass shards that had once been a perfect balcony window.

"You know it opens, right?" Azel sighingly told the Angel. If he'd still felt a bit sleepy before, he's certainly awake now. Azel had felt him coming but couldn't bother to stop his following actions.

Micheal slowly unfurled his wings, no longer in need of their protection, though glass couldn't hurt him in the first place. He knew Micheal just liked to provoke him.

"It stands to reason you should've felt my aura approaching. Have you grown weaker?" Micheal goaded. The Angel always seemed to find ways to try to rile him up.

"Showing your wings to me, are you tempting me?" Azel purred. Looking at Micheal had always been a pleasure. Despite the past brief appearances, especially the sight of his wings. After all, Demons liked beautiful things.

Though, Angel and Demon's wings were a bit different.

Angels couldn't regrow theirs without the originals. The higher ranked the Angel, the more wings they had and the more beautiful they were.

The Supreme Archangel, Micheal's wings were more special. He held the highest rank and was the only eight-winged Angel. Micheal had fortunately only used his first set to make his sudden entrance, or else the damage wouldn't just be to the balcony window.

Meanwhile, Demon's wings could be regrown if they were torn off, but they would have to either consume many human souls or ensnare an Angel and consume their gem at their core. It was like a Demons' nucleus. The more powerful the angel the better, though demons would have to try not to die in the process.

For both races, having your wings ripped off was a humiliation. In the events where it occurred, Demons would burn theirs to ashes and Angels would risk their existence to regain them, considering to the Angels it was like a part of their existence.

Azel had always wanted to rip Micheal's wings off, though he also knew he wouldn't like them as much if they weren't on the Archangel. His wings were holy and alluring just like their owner, making Azel always desire to preserve them in a place only he could see.

Knowing they would be perfect only if kept together, he wanted the whole set. Though, he has not yet figured out a way to cage an Archangel.

"Tsk!"

If Michael's face didn't obviously show his response, then the disappearance of his white golden wings did.

"For an Angel, you sure don't ever act angelic. Or is it just in the presence of a demon, that you act all haughty?"

Azel was genuinely curious, he never really got to the acquaintance stage with Micheal. One being the Archangel never tried to get within twenty feet near him after the first incident, two being they had always only met up on the day of the renewal of moratorium on what demons equated as fun.

"Also, will you be cleaning up your mess?"

Azel strikingly pointed out, looking at the shards on the black carpet.

Had he known Micheal preferred to wreak havoc on balcony windows and not enter through doors like normal holy entities. Or at least what someone with common sense would do, when invited to meet up to keep each other in check, then he wouldn't have renovated his room with carpet flooring.

It wasn't such a big hassle that Azel couldn't clean it up himself, but he didn't like to do so for others and neither had he ever been delegated to do such a thing. He also tried to use his powers less in the middle dimension where the mortal planets were stationed. It was relaxing in a sense as if he was truly a human on vacation, and not on a commission given by Asmonde. In addition, the most important reason being it was less taxing on him.

Well, his father seemed to know his interest in the Archangel, that now seemed to be contemplating the destruction of the evidence that was the cause of his apparent embarrassment.

He begrudgingly got off the bed, for the sake of the carpet and the building.

Azel swept his hand, making the glass shards disappear and the balcony window be repaired.

Where there is a concession once, it'll happen again, he muttered in his heart. Strangely as how he always felt towards the Angel, he wasn't peeved of the thought of doing so.

"Look, I've cleaned it up for you, shouldn't you thank me? Besides, aren't you five hundred years older than me, why are you more volatile than fireworks?"

Well, it was still cute.

Micheal stood still, standing on the place he landed, not having moved, looking at him miffed. This was also maybe a reason Micheal didn't like to get along cordially with him, he liked to tease the Archangel too much.

"Well, go on, there should be angel cake on the table. Unless you want to stay here and see me undress." Azel teased, opening the door to the hallway.

At the end was the staircase leading down.

Micheal's expression stagnated, then flushed.

Quickly, he moved around him and walked out the opened door.

Seeing his fast exit, Azel chuckled as he closed the door.

Smirking, he turned towards his wardrobe. Feeling pleased with himself that he'd perfected his baking skills prior to inviting Micheal. He had always liked to cook for himself as a pastime so it hadn't been much of an issue, living for so long he had to find hobbies to occupy his leisure time.

Azle kept thinking to himself about his obviously biased treatment towards Micheal.

For reasons he couldn't figure out, he always wanted to shackle Micheal to his side. Either by force or using carefully planned coaxing. As he had decided to do for now. The only thing he was sure of was that he liked his appearance the most.

Throughout the times they met, Azel had slowly made Micheal get used to his presence.

It's gotten to the point where instead of rudely ignoring his invitation to meet up before the signing. Micheal decided to accept the invite, though as he recalled, it wasn't the most common of arrivals. It's not exactly unusual though.

Seeing him landing in, encompassed by his golden white wings, in a white suit. Platinum hair, sapphire eyes glowing, with his abstinence aura, looking like the embodiment of what a Saint should. Azel wished to entrap him.

Azel had to admit, he'd been a bit enchanted, if not for Micheal having destroyed his balcony window in the process.

Though realistically speaking, demons and angels hardly had peaceful interactions.

Demons have said that the Angels' pride rivaled that of his father, he can't agree that the average angel can, but having observed Micheal throughout the five times they've seen each other. Azel can't help but agree that at least, Micheal could.

At the minimum, no other Angel would be able to waltz around him unharmed if they'd left the window damaged as Micheal had.

Micheal is special, so he's allowed to be so willful, Azel confirmed this once again.

If Paimon were here, he'd remark that Azel was praising Micheal again.

Azel felt helpless about his exaggerated accusations. It'd be more accurate to say he finds justifications for some of Micheal's more vexing traits.

Azel wouldn't deny that he's dismissed them because of his obsession with Micheal. Not that he'd be able to fix the habit, nor did he want Micheal to change. All demons had a goal fueled by their desire, Micheal happened to be his.

Besides, he had decided on ending his obsession once and for all this time.

Hurrying to get ready, he chose a black suit to match with the archangel.

Acknowledging, he shouldn't make the guest downstairs wait too long. Who knew what his highness would feel offended by next.

Walking down the stairs into the dining room, Azel spotted Micheal polishing off the remains of what used to be a whole angel cake.

At least he found out the rumors were true. The Archangel had a childish taste for "beatific" food.

Looking at Micheal is in his dining room, eating food he made. He beamed inwardly at the sight in front of him, Azel moved to sit in front of Micheal at the table.

"Did it suit your taste, considering you ate it all?"