Falling into Darkness

Michael had discovered Lucifer’s habit of visiting the pool by chance, but now he made sure his morning walk coincided with Lucifer’s swim as often as possible. He loved nothing better than beginning his day by watching Lucifer at his work.

He had every intention of introducing himself one day, but until then he was content to observe.

Michael took a bite of one of the peaches he had picked on his walk from his home on the beach. He had gathered a few, just in case he found the courage to speak to Lucifer this morning. He sighed as he admitted to himself he wouldn’t say anything today, just as he had held his silence yesterday, and all the days before.

He didn’t even know how long he had been watching Lucifer. It must have been several weeks now, if not months. He wished he could think of a single word to say to the aloof son of the morning, who outranked even the archangels.

Michael didn’t think Lucifer had seen him, yet something must have given his position away, because the angel peered over his shoulder from the cliff wall and stared directly at him.

He opened his mouth, willing the right words to come from his lips, even as he suspected he would probably say something monumentally foolish. Before he could utter a word, Lucifer let go of his grip on the rocks and dived gracefully into the deep, clear blue waters below.

Michael toyed with the edge of his robe, wondering whether he should join Lucifer in the pool. Had Lucifer’s piercing stare been an invitation?

While Michael deliberated, Lucifer surfaced and drew in a long breath. He ran his hands through his wet hair, the move drawing attention to his perfectly defined pectoral muscles.

Michael had to say something. Lucifer had seen him and it would be rude not to acknowledge him now.

“Good morning,” Michael called. His voice came out as something of a squeak and he cringed at the embarrassingly juvenile sound. He could have communicated his thoughts telepathically, as all angels could, but he had never enjoyed hearing someone else’s voice in his head. His fellow angels considered him a little odd for this particular quirk, but they respected his foible and spoke out loud unless absolutely necessary. Now Michael wished he had sent his greeting to Lucifer’s mind—at least then he wouldn’t have sounded so childish.

Lucifer inclined his head in response and dove under the water again.

Michael hung his head in disappointment. He had a feeling he had committed some kind of faux pas. Not only had Lucifer failed to reply to his greeting, he hadn’t even offered the smallest of smiles.

Now he thought about it, Michael didn’t recall ever seeing Lucifer smile. Even when he had struggled to reach a particular jewel and had, at last, been successful, he hadn’t smiled at the accomplishment. Michael suspected if Lucifer ever did smile directly at him, he would be entirely lost to the angel.

Lucifer continued to swim, diving under the water before returning to the surface, sometimes with a gem from the bottom, sometimes without. He didn’t look in Michael’s direction again.

Michael ate the final peach, knowing he had no intention of offering the fruit to Lucifer today. When he had eaten the last bite he rose from his place on the grass, intending to head to the communal conclave, where the rest of the archangels would be congregating and monitoring the earth, enjoying the new day.

“Did you enjoy watching me?”

Michael stumbled into a bush, nearly losing his balance entirely. When he faced Lucifer, the angel had exited the pool and stood near the robes he had discarded earlier. Lucifer didn’t seem in any hurry to pick up his clothing. He stood naked and unashamed before Michael, who couldn’t keep his eyes from straying downward.

“Or should I have asked are you enjoying watching me?” Lucifer amended.

Michael’s face burned as he met Lucifer’s gaze. He half expected to see a teasing smile on the angel’s lips, but his customary scowl remained in place.

“I…”

Lucifer laughed without humor. “Archangels,” he muttered, just loud enough for Michael to hear. “Spare me from ogling archangels who can’t string a sentence together.”

Michael wished the ground would open up and swallow him. He never had trouble speaking when he talked to anyone else. Why had he become tongue-tied at precisely the wrong moment?

Humiliated and dejected, Michael hurried away, leaving Lucifer at the side of the pool.

Michael knew in his heart he wouldn’t go back tomorrow. His one chance to speak to Lucifer, to secure his attention, had slipped past him, never to return.