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I HAD TO LET HER GO. I couldn't stand the effect she had on me. It was intoxicating to be near her, beautiful distraction that she was. Her bright smiles, her compassion, her sweetness—she was everything a man could want. It's been a week since I said goodbye to Lucy Alvarez, and I still think of her constantly.
I couldn't let myself fall for her. Had I let it flourish, it would have been an all-consuming love, the kind that occupies my mind at every hour of the day. I couldn't risk it. My job is too important. It requires all of my focus. Even now, a week later, I'm still distracted. It doesn't help that Lucy sends daily texts to remind me of her.
I know I'm not your Helper anymore, but could we still watch a movie together sometime?
Have I convinced you to reconsider yet?
I know you're ignoring me... but I miss spending time with you.
She only sends one each day, but it's enough to keep me thinking of her. I can't give in, no matter how much I miss the sight of her face, nor can I bring myself to delete her from my contacts. Deep down, I know I like getting these little messages from her. I wonder how long she'll keep sending them if she never gets a response?
I miss her as well. There's a part of me that thinks I'm an idiot for pushing her away, because girls like Lucy are a rarity. I haven't loved anyone for a very long time, nor have I wanted to fall in love. I know what love does to me. It transforms me. I cannot afford to turn into a lovesick puppy who only thinks of Lucy. Before I let her go, I was already thinking of her far too much.
Worse yet—I know she has feelings for me as well. I keep imagining what might have happened if I hadn't pushed her away.
When Michael invites me on a stroll around Archangel Tower, a rare chuckle slips out of me. Every now and then, he likes to step outside and meander around the gate, in full view of his screaming fangirls. Michael seems like the most confident man in the world, but people would be surprised by how insecure he is. He thrives on fangirl cheers and squeals.
I meet Michael at the entrance, and as soon as we step outside, there's a crescendo of adoring howls. They're most excited to see Michael, I'm sure, but I suspect I might have a few fans as well.
“So... Azrael...” Michael addresses me with tension in his voice. “I wanted to speak to you about some... concerns.”
“Concerns about what?”
Before I get an answer, a few girls scream in ear-piercing unison, “We love you, Michael!” A moment later, their volume is challenged by a second group yelling, “We love you, Azrael!” It's flattering, to say the least, but I doubt I've done anything to deserve their devotion.
It's a good thing we're separated by a gate. If that barrier didn't exist, Michael would get swarmed and tackled.
“I have some concerns about Jophiel,” Michael says. “After his trial, he won't speak to me. He won't even look at me! My attempt to dole out justice may cause irreparable damage to our relationship.”
I give him an honest answer, as I always do. “The trial was a bit over-the-top. The matter could have been settled quietly. Instead, you turned it into a spectacle, and his name was raked through the mud.”
“So says the man who arrested him,” Michael says. “How are you on good terms with Jophiel when I'm not?”
“Jophiel and I have always been close, and it wasn't my idea to arrest him. I was carrying out your order.”
“Well... how can I get back in his good graces?”
I give him a piece of painfully obvious advice. “Apologize?”
Michael rejects the idea with a snort. “If I apologized, I would have to admit I was wrong, and I wasn't wrong. His behavior was highly suspect!”
A smile breezes across Michael's lips when he glances at his fans. He can pretend to be immune to their adulation, but I know he enjoys the attention.
All of a sudden, he changes the subject. “Should we go sign a few autographs? What do you think?”
I almost tell him I'm too busy, but I suppose it couldn't hurt. It's been a long time since I've spared any time for the crowd at the gate. When we approach, our fans queue up and stick photos of us through the bars. I manifest a pen and start signing my name in silver ink.
While I'm signing a picture for a heavily freckled young man, he asks me, “Does Archangel Haniel ever come out here?”
Truthfully, we rarely step outside. We usually warp to and from the tower, but I don't want to dash his hopes. “Occasionally, yes.”
“Is she still dating Chris Pho?” When I give him a nod, the boy says, “I hope he knows how lucky he is!”
I move down the line, signing autograph after autograph. I try to be friendly, though I feel a bit flustered. Crowds have always made me nervous, and I never know how to react to compliments. One young lady tells me I “have the greatest cheekbones ever.” How am I supposed to respond to that? If I thank her, it might sound as if I agree. If I reject her compliment, I might look like an arse.
Unlike me, Michael seems to be enjoying himself. He's a lot more comfortable speaking to strangers than I am. By comparison, I'm a bashful, awkward mess.
After a few minutes of signing autographs, I suddenly spot Lucy on the other side of the gate. When our eyes meet, I try to look as indifferent as I can.
As I'm signing another young lady's picture, I ask Miss Alvarez, “What are you doing here?” If I could speak quietly, I would, but the chatter of fans makes whispering impossible.
“You won't answer my texts, so I thought I'd come here and see if the guard at the gate would let me in.”
“It appears he didn't.”
“No.” Lucy exaggerates a pout. “No, he definitely didn't.”
Lucy looks as lovely as ever. Her brown hair's pulled back in a ponytail, and her pink dress is fit for a doll. She's so pretty, I'm tempted to change my mind and beg her to join me on my next mission.
But I can't. I won't.
“I really wish you would have given me another chance, Azrael. Was I really that bad?” she asks.
Our conversation seems to interest a few young ladies standing nearby. I hope they don't think we're discussing anything scandalous.
“No. You did well,” I reply. “I made my decision based on what I thought was best for you.”
“But it's not!” Lucy cries. “I really enjoyed working with you. Yeah, the missions were depressing sometimes, but the work was fulfilling. When I was with you, I... for the first time ever, I felt like someone important. I felt like I mattered!”
I shake my head and sign another autograph. I'm not sure what she expects me to say.
“I won't bother you again. This will be the last time,” Lucy says. “I know I'm bugging you, I just... I'm really sad about what happened.”
She's not bothering me at all. Seeing her face again has been a secret delight. “I'm sorry, Miss Alvarez. I didn't mean to make you upset.”
I sign a few more autographs and dash away from the gate as quickly as I can. Lucy has no idea how unsettled I am, does she? She has no idea I think she's beautiful, charming, and a joy to be around.
I'm truly an idiot.
And I sincerely hope this isn't the last time I see her.