Celestial (FallenAngel!Doffy x Reader) CHAPTER 4

A howl of wind interrupted your reading and you sighed as you snapped the book shut. For the last two days, the skies had been threatening a storm that never seemed to come. The wind raged and the thunderheads growled in the distance but the ground remained dry, the air charged with static and heavy with a humidity that promised rain but refused to follow through.

Your eyes drifted to the window for the hundredth time that day to look out onto the forest, a silvery fog hanging low and heavy over the trees. To say you had been distracted by it lately was an understatement. Without realising it, you would often find yourself staring off into the dark woods, thoughts inevitably drifting to the fallen angel who had turned your life upside down. You wondered what had become of him in the days since he disappeared into the trees.

You couldn’t quite say you felt guilty for not offering him your hospitality, and to say you were worried about him was a gross overstatement, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he was hungry, if he got cold at night.

If he was lonely.

You wondered if he was still even out there. It had been almost three days now. You recalled the storm the night he had left, the voice in the thunder. Had those been words of forgiveness or a condemnation?

You set the book down beside the others, none of which had come anywhere close to abating your curiosity. If anything, they had spawned more questions than answers, ones you found yourself Googling on your phone in the dead of night when your mind proved too busy to sleep.

You missed your laptop.

The computer repair technician had told you it would take at least a week to order in a replacement power supply, so until then it was all papercuts and eye strain—a most inconvenient way to conduct research.

You looked out onto the forest again and an unwelcome thought entered your mind—not for the first time. There were only so many books you could read, so many pages of the search engine you could scour before all that was left were unhelpful titles like Your Guardian Angel and You and ilovebeingchristian.com.

But out there, just beyond the tree line… You had your own virtual Pierian Spring practically at your doorstep. A wealth of knowledge straight from the horse’s mouth. But…

‘A little learning is a dang'rous thing; / Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring…’

You shuddered, one hand lifting unconsciously to your throat where a fading red hand print still marked the delicate skin.

To throw yourself into that world so recklessly—for there was no other way to do it, it was all or nothing—would consume you, surely. But you could not bear the uncertainty, the ceaseless buzzing in your head that could only be quieted with the answers your sought. You needed to know how it all fit into your world view, and if it didn’t, you wondered whether you had the courage to cast aside everything you knew to accept this new world that had been so rudely thrust upon you.

And lastly, were you prepared to face the possibility that you might not come out of this alive?

You took a breath and exhaled heavily, eyeing the pistol on the table in front of you. Would it be enough to protect you? You caressed the smooth metal. You’d always hated these things, but now you refused to let it out of your sight. It was all you had in the face of this impossible enemy. You tucked it into the waistband of your jeans.

It would have to be enough.

Fuck, I must be crazy…

You stood and gathered up your coat, throwing it over your shoulders as you strode out the back door and across the yard before you could change your mind. You stopped when you reached the edge of the trees, legs trembling ever so slightly. Suddenly there was a whole lot more to be afraid of in the darkness of those trees. If angels were real so were demons and monsters and everything else that went bump in the night.

But your angel was the scariest of them all.

You swallowed hard. Was your curiosity really stronger than your sense of self-preservation? You stepped into the trees. Yes, yes it was. You knew you were most likely crazy and ‘curiosity killed the cat’ and all that nonsense. But you couldn’t stand the thought of living the rest of your life never knowing the truth behind the biggest debate in history: was God real?

The woods were in twilight, the weak grey light from the murky sky above doing little to penetrate the forest canopy. The air was so thick and humid it almost felt like you were underwater, the usual creaks and groans and bird calls from the pines muted and distant. Your phone chimed loudly in your hand and you jumped violently. It was Nami. She had been texting you all morning and you had been adamantly ignoring her. You switched the phone to silent and continued on, clutching the device to your chest.

At least if you went missing they could find your body by tracking the cell phone signal.

That was a morbid thought…

There was complete silence as you approached the clearing where you had first found the angel, your boots making barely a sound in the fallen leaf litter. You thought that strange and looked down to find a layer of soft, wispy grass carpeting the forest floor, tiny flowers scattered through it like little yellow stars.

Bewildered, you reached the edge of the clearing to find not the destruction in which you had left it, but quite the opposite. Where the ground had previously been scorched bare by the impact, grass and flowers had sprung up from the blackened earth, blanketing the clearing in green and yellow and pink. It grew thicker as you approached the centre of the clearing—the crater—which appeared to be where the growth had originated.

Destruction breeds creation.

You peered over the rim of the crater—now filled with wildflowers and more of the soft, springy grass—and gasped at what you saw. Dophiel was seated at the very centre, legs crossed with his hands resting lightly on his thighs, his back turned to you. He looked like he hadn’t moved in days, clothes hanging limp and dirtied, and fallen leaves dusting his shoulders and tangled in his hair. Tiny tendrils of rose vine had grown around him, clinging to his toes and legs, but the thorns did not seem to hurt him—they didn’t even seem to be able to penetrate his skin. The vines embraced him almost lovingly, and it was then that the thought entered your mind that maybe this man was more like the angels of scripture than you had originally thought.

No truly evil being could bring about a scene full of life such as this, surely. Maybe you had misread him.

Those thoughts were immediately dashed when he spoke, his voice as cold as you remembered.

“I thought we agreed to never lay eyes on each other again,” he growled, though his words lacked their usual venom. He sounded weary.

“I—” You cut yourself off. You had been about to say you had been worried about him, but the sudden pressing need to not seem weak in front of him overcame you. “I was just checking to make sure you hadn’t died. Didn’t fancy having to explain that to the police.”

“Police,” you heard him say softly, as if testing the word on his tongue. Then he addressed you again, louder this time. “I’m fine. You can leave now.”

You shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, reluctant to just leave him there in the middle of the woods. “You sure you’re not hungry? You could use a shower too; I can smell you from here.”

You could hear him gritting his teeth. “I do not need to partake in such mundane rituals.” His words were punctuated by a loud groan and it took a moment for you to realise it was his stomach growling.

“Oh, really?” you replied with a smug smile. “Because it sounds to me like you might need to.”

“You are mistaken.”

“If you’re worried I’m going to think less of you for giving in to human urges, you should know that I can’t possibly think any less of you than I already do.”

He remained silent.

You sighed. “Listen, I know you hate me and, personally, there are a lot of things I’d much rather be doing than babysitting a psychopathic angel, but if you don’t come inside and get something to eat right now, I swear to God I will drag your stubborn ass there myself.”

He turned to look at you, one eyebrow raised in bewilderment.

You shifted awkwardly again, fidgeting under his cold gaze. “I did it once and I’ll do it again.”

“Fine,” he snapped. He clambered to his feet, vines and leaved falling away from him, and staggered, almost falling to his knees. It was only sheer determination that kept him upright, teeth gritted through the pain of the blood rushing back to his muscles. “What’s wrong with my body?”

“You haven’t moved in three days. That’ll take a toll on your muscles, mundane or divine. Combine that with not eating or drinking for three days… If you were human, you’d be dead.”

“Hmph. Humans are so fragile.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re one to talk. Without your wings or your powers, what are you?”

He only glared at you.

“Best get used to being human, Doffy. Looks like Dad’s not going to unground you any time soon.”

The angel growled low in is throat—a warning. You made sure to give him a clear view of the handgun at your hip, a warning of your own that he was in no state to take you on and win. You breathed a discreet sigh of relief when he deflated and, at your gesture, he followed you reluctantly from the woods and back to the house. His bare feet made hardly a sound on the forest floor and you had to periodically glance over your shoulder to be sure he was still following you.

He’d make a good hunter. That’s what Dad would say.

Once home, you immediately busied yourself in the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the cupboard and the fridge to prepare lunch. You glanced up to find Doffy standing at the threshold, glaring suspiciously inside.

“Do you need and invitation? I thought you were an angel not a vampire.”

He shot a withering glare your way, and lifted his foot to step over onto the tiled floor of the dining space. You stopped him.

“Uh-uh! Wipe your feet first, they’re filthy.”

Another glare, but he did as he was told and wiped his feet off on the doormat. It didn’t make any difference—you knew it wouldn’t, his feet were positively caked in mud—but you found it funny so you said nothing, pursing your lips to stop the laughter from bubbling over.

“Sit,” you said, gesturing to the dining table.

Doffy didn’t move. “You’re playing a dangerous game ordering around an angel of the Lord.”

You sighed exasperatedly. You had to remind yourself that you had brought this on yourself. “Please sit. I’ll make you something to eat.”

He sat without further complaint.

Five minutes later, you set a plate down in front of him. He eyed the sandwich on it suspiciously, gingerly lifting the top piece of bread to observe its contents. You turned away to fetch him a glass of water and when you returned, he was still staring at the food, a look of distaste plain on his face.

“What, you want me to cut the crusts off or something? I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Silence. Your phone buzzed incessantly from the benchtop behind you, but went ignored.

Not the chatty type, are you?

“Please tell me you know what eating is? I’m not going to mime it for you.”

“I know how,” he snapped.

“Well then, I’ll leave you to it,” you said airily. “I’m going to find you a towel. Your… divinity is stinking up my house.”

You could feel his glare on the back of your head the whole way down the hall. You smiled to yourself. Maybe you were playing a dangerous game by teasing him, but you found yourself enjoying it all too much. Besides, as long as you had your father’s gun, Doffy was harmless.

Until he’s not…

You pushed the unwelcome thoughts aside and continued your search for the spare bath towel.

Upon returning to the dining area, you found Doffy’s seat empty and his plate clean, and your fridge wide open as the angel rummaged through it in search of more food. He pulled out a Tupperware container full of leftovers that had been in there for God know how long and cracked the corner of the lid to smell its contents, lip curling in disgust at what he found.

“If you’re still hungry, you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

He looked up, startled then angry. Until then, he hadn’t known you were there. This seemed to disconcert him slightly, as if he wasn’t used to being caught off guard, then his expression returned to that perpetual glower. He placed the container back in the fridge and slammed the door shut, snatching the towel from your arms as he brushed past you.

“Second door on the left!” you called after him, and a moment later you heard the bathroom door slam shut.

You followed after him, listening at the door. You had a suspicion that, despite looking like he knew what he was doing, the angel really had no clue how any of this worked and was just too proud to admit it. It was a wonder he hadn’t choked on his sandwich.

“You have to turn the tap to the left,” you said after a full minute of silence from behind the door.

He didn’t reply, but a second later you heard the tell-tale squeak of the taps and the water begin to bubble forth. You received no expression of gratitude, not even so much as a grunt of acknowledgment. Only silence. You just hoped he didn’t manage to drown himself somehow in the tiny shower tub. That would certainly be a feat.

You sighed and left him alone to find him some clean clothes. Nothing you could find amongst the long forgotten items left by previous boyfriends would come anywhere close to fitting across the angel’s broad shoulders, but anything was better that letting him walk around stark naked. Not that you would complain about it. But it would be incredibly distracting and you couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t do something you would later come to regret.

You blushed as you let your thoughts wander to how that would work with an angel. He certainly seemed physically capable of it—he was no Ken doll down there, that’s for sure. And from the stories, if they were to be believed, angels were at least capable of producing offspring with humans.

Slapping your cheeks lightly, you pushed the thoughts aside. It had been far too long since you’d been intimate with anyone, but you were not going to break your dry spell for just any attractive man who fell from the sky. Especially when said guy was a massive jerk.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you from your sinful thoughts and you hurriedly fanned your flaming cheeks. You didn’t get visitors often. The house was just slightly too far out of town for people to make the effort most of the time.

You made your way to the front door, passing the bathroom with shower still running, making sure your tucked the handgun safely into a draw in the entrance hall before reaching for the doorknob. Its presence at your side would be looked upon unfavourably, especially in a small community such as Starfall, where the crime rate was so low people regularly left they’re doors unlocked.

The door swung inward to reveal a very pissed off redhead and you almost closed it again right then and there.

Nami pointed a finger at you accusingly. “[Name] [Last Name], You have a lot of explaining to do!”

“Nami, now is not really a good ti—”

“Don’t,” she growled, “give me that. I have been texting and calling you all morning, what could be so important that you can’t even pick up the phone?”

You struggled to form a coherent answer. Excuses were never your strong suit. “Well, uh…”

She held up one hand. “Save it. Unless you have a certain human biology teacher naked in your bed right now, I won’t accept any other excuse.”

Your face must have betrayed something because her eyes widened and she looked past your shoulder to the living room, cocking her head to the side. “Is that the shower I hear?” Then she looked back to you. “You little minx,” she said with a grin.

“No! That’s not… I have a relative staying over, that’s all.”

Nami raised an eyebrow, pushing past you just as the sounds of the shower fell silent.

“You’re a terrible liar, [Name],” she called over her shoulder as you closed the door behind her. “I know when you’re—oh!”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

You entered the kitchen to find Nami gawking at a very wet and very naked Dophiel standing in the door to the hall. He stared back, ignoring the small puddle gathering around his feet on the tiled floor. You slapped a hand over your face, trying not to think about the way the droplets of water slid over the planes of his stomach muscles.

“He’s… European,” you offered weakly. “They’re a little more, uh, casual with nudity there.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Nami said absently, biting her lip as she looked him up and down.

You looked between the two for a long moment then decided there was too much ogling going on. “Okay, thanks for stopping by, Nami. As you can see, I’m a little busy today. Doffy, please go put on a towel.”

You took Nami by the arm and tugged her away in the direction of the front door. She let you pull her along until Doffy was out of sight, then she turned to you, blocking your hand as you reached to open the front door.

“You expect me to believe that god in there is related to you?” she hissed.

“I wouldn’t say he’s a god,” you muttered. “And yes, my cousin, actually.”

“Do all your cousins look like that? Because if so, I want an invite to your next family reunion.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am. I mean, if you were hitting that, I wouldn’t even be mad that you never even called Law.” She looked at you pointedly. Your heart sank.

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot. Doffy’s visit was, uh, sudden to say the least.”

“That’s okay,” she chirped and you were caught off guard by the sudden shift in her mood. “Because I called him for you. You,” she pointed her index finger at you, “have a date on Friday.”

“What?! No, Nami, I can’t—” You reached for her, pleading.

“No more excuses! He’s picking you up at seven.” She danced out of your reach and out the door. “Have fun!” And then she was gone.

You shut the door behind her with a resounding click and leaned your forehead against the cool wood. “Damn it, Nami,” you groaned.

Turning around, you jumped violently as you came face to face with Doffy, his bronze pectorals barely an inch from your nose. He smelled like your shampoo, and you had the sneaking suspicion he had slathered it all over his body from the potency of it. He had wrapped a towel around his waist at least, much to your relief.

“Jesus, Doffy, don’t do that.”

He didn’t apologise. “You should not have let her go. She knows of my existence; she should be destroyed.”

“What!?” you cried, panicking. “No! She doesn’t know anything, I promise!”

The angel eyed you suspiciously, but seemed satisfied by what he found because he nodded. “Good. Keep in that way.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s find you some clothes, huh? Can’t have you flashing every visitor I get.”

He said nothing but stepped aside to let you pass. Your skin prickled with his eyes on you and your cheeks burned with the memory of him standing there in the hall, water droplets clinging to every groove of his perfectly chiselled body…

You were beginning to think letting him into your home had been a huge mistake.