Chapter Text
You are going to kill Asmodeus.
It’s your fifth day at Purgatory Hall, but after a dramatic check-in phone call in which he discovered that you haven’t even opened the self-care bag he sent you off with, he called Solomon. And now the sorcerer is standing in your doorway, looking both amused and resigned.
“I am under strict instructions from the Avatar of Lust to send photographic evidence of his ‘skin-nourishing gifts’ in use,” he sighs, leaning against your doorframe. “I have known Asmodeus for a very long time, and I know what he gets like. My suggestion to get him off our cases is for everyone here at Purgatory Hall to use whatever facemasks are in the bag and take a group photo. It’ll be fun and it’ll stop Asmo from blowing up our phones.”
You roll your eyes as you plop down on the bed and cross your legs beneath you.
“I was going to suggest we do exactly that, if everyone doesn’t mind. I was thinking maybe after dinner tonight?”
A wicked gleam flashes in Solomon’s eyes. The mysterious smile touching his lips puts you on alert immediately.
“Actually, I have something planned for us all this evening, so how about we do it right now? The angels just got back from RAD.”
You raise an eyebrow at the sorcerer.
“What have you planned?”
“Hm? Oh, you’ll find out after dinner. It’s a surprise. By the way”—Stepping into your room, he offers you a notebook that had been tucked inside his robe—” here’s the stuff you missed in demonic arithmetic this week. Let me know if there’s anything you want me to go over with you tomorrow.”
You squint at Solomon.
“I’m mildly terrified of any surprise you’re involved in,” you deadpan, taking the notebook.
Your fellow human gives a light laugh. Stepping back, he surveys the room before he spots the bright pink bag Asmodeus had sent you off with.
“I don’t think there’s any question about it, but just to be sure, was this the bag he packed for you?”
“Your lack of denial makes me even more concerned. But yes, that’s the one.”
Solomon lifts the bag with both hands, chuckling as he brings it to the bed.
“Shall we take a look at what products he gifted you for your time away?” he asks.
“Yeah, let’s see what we’ve got.”
Setting the bright pink thing on the bed beside you, Solomon opens the zipper. He hums as he jostles the bag.
“There’s a lot of stuff in here . . . It might be easier to assess the loot if we tip it all out.”
“Agreed,” you say, unthinkingly.
A split-second passes before your brain reminds you that ASMODEUS, AVATAR OF LUST, PACKED THIS BAG.
“Actually, wait!”
Your change of mind is too late. As the content of the bag spills over the bedsheets, you feel your face burn.
Amid the plethora of facemasks, body scrubs, and moisturisers, you spot three things that make you wish the earth would swallow you whole: a rabbit vibrator, a bejewelled butt-plug, and a bottle of lube. In addition to these items, you spot a note in Asmo’s playfully elegant handwriting: In case you miss us~. A lipstick kiss mark on the paper in Asmodeus’s favourite shade of pink serves as a signature.
Mortified, you glance to Solomon. To your surprise, he seems totally unfazed as he plucks through the various items he had tipped out of the bag.
“Ah, I’m quite familiar with these Infernal Iridescence masks. They’re one of Asmo’s favourite brands for facemasks,” he says, gathering a few in one hand and holding them up. “They contain charcoal and ground obsidian salamander claw, but there’s also sparkling midnight willow tree sap in them and apparently that’s what makes the skin glitter after use.”
You clear your throat quietly.
“You, uh, m-must know Asmodeus pretty intimately, huh?”
Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, he smirks and puts a finger to his chin as if in thought.
“Whatever could you be implying, hmm?” he asks, his tone teasing. “I’ve had a pact with Asmodeus for several hundred years at this point, so yes, I am quite in tune with his habits, such as the types of beauty products he uses and other things he is prone to pack in somebody’s bag if he’s seeing them off.”
You choke on your own tongue for a moment before regaining composure, though you can’t hide the blush that still sears along your cheeks.
“O-oh . . . You didn’t react to them, so I thought you hadn’t noticed.”
Solomon laughs a little louder than usual. With a small motion of his hand, the bejewelled butt-plug levitates into the air between you and Solomon shakes his head.
“Would it surprise you to learn that he’s given me more of these than I care to admit over the years?”
You snort with laughter, clapping a hand over your mouth as you watch the sorcerer’s grin widen.
“In fact, I think I might have one identical to this thanks to Asmodeus.”
“Solomon!” you wheeze. “Stop touching it!”
“I’m not touching it! I’m clearly levitating it using magic. See? My hands are here,” he laughs, waving a hand either side of his head.
You throw your head back, cackling. Unfortunately, between Solomon’s smart mouth and your laughter, you don’t hear the footsteps that warn of another’s approach until it’s too late.
“Little lamb, I have some notes for you from the Devildom history class. You seem to be in good spirits, what’s—?”
It is at this moment that Simeon’s eyes find the bejewelled pink butt-plug levitated between you and Solomon. The colour drains from your face as you watch the angel process what he’s looking at. Solomon, for all the help he is, freezes in place, a blush pinkening his cheeks while he awaits Simeon’s reaction.
“Oh . . . Oh . . .” Simeon breathes, covering his face with one hand as he starts to back out of the room. “I-I didn’t realise you two— I mean— I’m sorry, I must have interrupted something, please, excuse me.”
“NO NO IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!”
A furious blush covers the angel’s cheeks as he averts his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck.
Again, for all the help he is, Solomon merely laughs.
“Would you put that thing down!” you snap at him, your heart doing double-time as you try to salvage the situation.
“Back in the bag?” Solomon asks.
“Yes, Solomon! Back in the damn bag!”
“R-really, I can come back later—” Simeon interjects, taking another step towards the door.
You put your head in your hands.
“It was in the bag Asmo packed for me! We were just getting facemasks out for everyone! I had no idea it was in there until we opened the bag a minute ago, I swear!”
A short silence stretches through the room, interrupted only by Solomon failing to stifle a laugh. He coughs into his fist to cover it up before addressing the angel.
“It is as she says,” he concedes.
Simeon purses his lips together in a very flat line, but the swell of his cheeks and the crinkles around his eyes give away his apparent amusement. Huffs of laughter jolt his shoulders and he presses a hand over his mouth. It does little to hide the rosiness of his cheeks as he shakes his head, tousling his soft hair around his temples.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply . . . Pfft ahaha!”
You take in a deep breath, patting yourself down to confirm that your soul had not in fact fled your body in mortification. Within seconds, both Solomon and Simeon have doubled over in laughter. You shake your head. Returning your attention to the range of beauty products and other Asmo-supplied items, you begin shoving moisturisers and hair masques back into the duffle bag. You piff a facemask sachet at Solomon in indignation.
“Let’s— hehehe— let’s make sure Luke doesn’t stumble upon that bag, shall we?” Simeon suggests, wiping a tear from under his eye.
You pointedly zip the duffle bag closed and sit it beneath your desk, out of sight. Clearing your throat, you turn back to the angel and the sorcerer as they collect themselves.
“On that note, shall we go to the living room and do these facemasks together?”
Oh, yes, you are going to kill Asmodeus.
--
Half an hour later, you’re sitting in the Purgatory Hall common room. It’s strange to see the angels and the sorcerer in their pyjamas before dinner time, but you had collectively agreed that it was appropriate for the afternoon pamper sesh to appease Asmo. Between the items in the duffle bag and things the boys already had on hand, the four of you found things to push or pin back your hair.
Luke’s cheeks are pink. There was some protesting from him about doing this, but his tune changed with a smoothly spoken “That’s okay Luke, you don’t need to join in if you don’t want to, the three of us will do it without you,” from Simeon.
You’re surprised when Solomon volunteers to help Luke apply a facemask, but as they settle on the floor cushions with each other, you remember the way the sorcerer had looked as he carried Luke to bed on your first night here at Purgatory Hall. The recollection warms your heart. Solomon really does treat Luke as if he is his own child. Peals of laughter escape the little angel, who has scrunched his eyes closed while Solomon spreads the sticky facemask across his cheeks.
“May I?” Simeon interrupts your thoughts as he lowers himself next to you, sitting on his knees.
You pat down your headband to make sure your hair is all swept back before you nod and turn to face him properly. Simeon tears open the facemask packaging and begins to apply it to your face. You let him tilt your head this way and that as he spreads the mask across your skin, but you keep your eyes on his face. He doesn’t meet your eyes, dropping his gaze each time you think he’s about to. A small frown forms on your brow.
“You okay?” you ask quietly.
He gives a small sigh and finally meets your gaze.
“I’m sorry for the way I reacted when I walked into your room earlier. I suppose I wasn’t sure what to make of what I’d walked in on and I . . . Well, I know it’s silly, but I suppose I felt a little jealous.”
You find his hand against your cheek and hold it there.
There’s nothing to be jealous of, you want to say. There is nothing between me and Solomon right now, but even if there was, my heart is open to you as well.
But you know that it is more complicated than that. For Simeon, it is not about whether something is or is not. He is an angel. You are a human. Solomon can choose to pursue you and be with you if you are open to him. Simeon cannot. You say nothing.
When the angel has finished applying your facemask, you open another one and return the favour. Luke apologises for getting some of the facemask in Solomon’s hair and the room is filled with gentle giggles. Smiling pulls the mask tight over your cheeks as it sets.
“I think we’re all masked up. Let’s get a selfie for Asmodeus,” Solomon laughs, using magic to clean the excess facemask goop off his fingers. “Gather around, everyone.”
You can’t help smiling as you press close with your Purgatory Hall family. You pull Luke into your lap when he loses his footing on the floor cushions. Solomon takes the photo on his D.D.D with he and Simeon leaning in on either side of you.
“Now a silly one,” Simeon encourages, scrunching his eyes closed and grinning as toothily as he can.
Solomon goes cross-eyed and Luke sticks his tongue out as far as he can. You’re too busy laughing at them to pull a face of your own before the sorcerer takes another picture.
“Bleh! The facemask tastes awful!”
“You’re not supposed to lick it, Luke,” Simeon chides him.
“I didn’t do it on purpose! Pwah, yuck!”
--
You might forgive Asmodeus for packing inappropriate items into the self-care duffel bag for you. But only because you swear your cheeks have never felt this soft before. Not to mention that the sparkling midnight willow tree sap in the facemasks really does make the skin glitter after use. Solomon had not exaggerated. Over dinner and dessert, your eyes are repeatedly drawn to the faces of Simeon and Solomon and Luke as the light catches on their skin. Simeon, especially, seems to have his ethereal beauty amplified by the skincare product. Your cheeks keep prickling with heat when you catch yourself staring at him.
Solomon catches your eye after everyone has finished eating. He holds your gaze as he leans close to Simeon to whisper something. You raise an eyebrow at them as Simeon glances at you with a soft chuckle and then nods to Solomon.
Solomon says your name.
“Why don’t you help Luke wash up? Simeon and I are going to set the common room up for the evening.”
He sends a wink to Luke who lights up with excitement before he starts tugging on your arm.
“Come on! I’ll wash, you dry,” he says, stacking the dirty dishes into piles that will be easier to ferry to the kitchen sink.
As Luke leads you into the kitchen and fills the sink with hot water, you glance suspiciously in the general direction of the common room.
“What’s Solomon up to? He said he had a surprise for me. Should I be worried?”
Luke has to stand on a small stool to reach the kitchen sink. He looks adorable standing on the step to scrub the plates, but you dare not tell him so.
“Don’t worry, you’re going to love the surprise,” he says, passing you a plate to dry.
You work quickly with Luke. Anticipation is building in your stomach as you wonder what Solomon has planned. Clearly both of the angels are privy to the details. That is enough to reassure you that you probably don’t have to worry about the sorcerer trying to feed you anything. Luke couldn’t hide his excitement earlier, which in turn has made you giddy to know what awaits you in the common room once the dishes are done.
“We’re ready, Luke! Bring her through!” Simeon calls from elsewhere in the dorm.
“Nice timing,” you say, putting the last dish away as Luke drains the sink and rinses out the suds.
He jumps down from the stool and takes your hand.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” he chants.
The living room door is closed as you approach. Simeon opens it from the other side as you and Luke reach it and you stop short when you see the gorgeous white suit he has changed into. Silver embroidery decorates one shoulder of the jacket with mandala flowers, with a golden rose boutonnière on a striped yellow and blue ribbon affixed to the opposite lapel. His waistcoat is a starburst of dusty gold over a muted blue, with a dark green knitted shirt beneath. His eyes are bright sapphires, made all the brighter by the soft colour palette of his outfit. He takes your breath away. His cheeks still glitter from the facemask.
“Welcome, fair lady, and young Luke!” Simeon greets you with his arms spread. “Tonight’s show is about to start. Make haste! It’s time to take your seats.”
He performs a sweeping bow to usher you both into the room. You can’t keep the grin from pinching at your cheeks as Luke leads the way over to the couch. The floor cushions have all been stacked out of the way, and the coffee table has been laden with bowls of popcorn and tall cups of fizzy drink. Colourful blankets are draped over the couch and someone had affixed coloured cellophane to the lamps to douse the room in pink and yellow light. A bewildered laugh escapes you as you settle on the couch with Luke.
“What’s going on?”
“Shh, it’s about to start!” he says, leaning forward to grab a popcorn bucket to set in your lap.
He’s so excited that his legs are swinging over the edge of the couch. He is brimming with anticipation as Simeon exits the common room into the hallway to the bedrooms. You watch the doorway, Luke’s excitement clearly affecting you as you hold your breath too. However, instead of Simeon, the next person to pass through the door is Solomon, adorned in a white suit of his own with gold and purple accents, and a large white hat decorated with a purple and gold ribbon and a pair of purple roses.
“Welcome to the show, dear patrons! I am Solomon, the witty and whimsical magician, here to perform wonders before your very eyes tonight!”
He struts to the centre of the room before you as he speaks and puffs out his suit jacket wide behind him as he comes to a stop. A toothy grin is directed at you as he makes his declaration, made comically charming by the glittery twinkle of his skin. You can’t help it, and apparently neither can Luke—you both break into raucous laughter. The two of you clap as the merry sounds fill the common room. Simeon’s musical giggles reach your ears from the adjoining hallway. Solomon puffs up his chest and sweeps his arms wide.
“Joining me this evening is my lovely assistant, Simeon!”
Simeon steps through the doorway to further applause from you and Luke and comes to stand beside Solomon. A pair of hula-hoops are hitched over his shoulder. He sets them down before joining hands with Solomon and they dip into a bow together.
“Let the magic show begin!”
“A magic show?” you grin. “This is already fantastic.”
“Excellent,” Solomon smirks. “Please allow us to exceed your expectations.”
“But wait, Solomon, what’s that behind her ear?” Simeon asks in a loud whisper, cupping his hand as if to hide the question.
Solomon squints at you and walks right up to the coffee table before leaning towards you.
“What is that you have there, fair lady?”
Your face is rosy as you pat your hair back from your ears, even going as far as to check over your shoulder to see if you can spot anything.
“Luke, you have something behind your ear too!” Simeon exclaims, coming forward to lean over the coffee table with Solomon.
“Scoot a bit closer, you two,” Solomon encourages.
Doing as he says, you and Luke shuffle forward. They reach forward in unison, Solomon’s hand carding through your hair while Simeon’s brushes past Luke’s ear.
“Aha, what’s this?”
“Oh my! Would you look at that!”
As Solomon pulls back, a handful of colourful daisies follows, while Simeon produces a single cupcake decorated with buttercream frosting to look like blue carnations.
“What?!” Luke exclaims, his hands clamping over his ears. “Where was it?!”
“It was behind your ear!” Simeon laughs. “How on earth did you hide it there?”
Luke’s giggle is infectious. You can’t stop the laughter from pouring out of you as Solomon offers you one of the daisies in his hand, which you accept with thanks. He turns his back for a moment and makes a show of doing something with the remaining daisies before he turns back to you with a flourish.
“Ta-da! For you, fair lady,” he announces, presenting you with a daisy crown.
“How did you make that so fast?!” you exclaim.
You bow your head as he lowers it into place, adjusting a lock of hair before he pulls away.
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Solomon winks.
You and Luke both giggle merrily as Solomon and Simeon step back from the coffee table, taking centre stage once more. Luke carefully breaks the cupcake in two and offers you the bigger portion. It tastes amazing—a perfect balance of vanilla and honey with a hint of citrus zest. You and Luke both end up with blue carnation frosting on your noses.
“Now that we’ve solved that mystery, on with the—”
Solomon is interrupted by his hat suddenly falling—no, leaping—off his head and landing on the floor with an unexpectedly heavy thud.
“Solomon, your hat!” Simeon cries, bending to collect it for him.
Before he can get his hands on it, it jumps away and hides beneath the coffee table.
“It’s getting away!” Solomon shouts, pointing at it with an expression of mock-panic.
Luke jumps to the rescue, bumping his head a little on the edge of the coffee table as he dives between it and the couch to hamper the hat’s escape. Between the two angels, they corral the hat until Simeon grabs it. With much strain, he pulls it from beneath the coffee table and heaves it back towards Solomon.
“We’ve got a live one!” he chimes.
“My hat has become possessed!”
Luke gasps in horror. “Is it a demon?!”
“Let’s find out! Simeon, do you have a good hold on it?”
“Aye, aye!”
“Then I shall investigate . . .”
You and Luke are on the edge of your seats again, watching on with baited breath as Solomon helps the angel to sit the hat upside-down and starts rummaging inside.
“Hmm?” He raises an eyebrow.
“What is it?!” Luke squeals.
You beam at his excitement, and the blue icing smeared at the corner of his mouth.
“There’s something in there!” Simeon gasps.
“It keeps burrowing down when I try to grab it,” Solomon explains. “I’ll have to take a few things out so it doesn’t have anything to hide beneath.”
He claps his hands together and rubs his palms quickly before reaching into the hat again. When he pulls his hand back, he’s clutching a bright green handkerchief . . . tied to a yellow one, then an orange one, then a red one, then purple . . .
You throw your head back with laughter as Solomon starts pulling out handkerchief after handkerchief of brightly coloured material, each one tied to the next. He takes a few steps back as he pulls them out.
“There it is! I see it! Keep pulling!” Simeon gasps, holding the hat steady.
Solomon begins to pull the handkerchief more frantically, looping the string of them over his shoulder again and again and stepping back from the hat until he disappears back into the hallway. The handkerchiefs keep coming, faster and faster as you and Luke descend into hysterics and Simeon continues peering into the hat, exaggerated facial expressions aplenty.
Suddenly, the chain of handkerchiefs ends. Solomon makes a sound of surprise from elsewhere in the house as the last of the hankies disappear through the door. Simeon keeps a hold on the hat as the three of you listen out for the star of the show. Distant thumps and thuds and bumps travel through Purgatory Hall, then suddenly, the door from the dining room bursts open and Solomon stumbles in, thoroughly bound in the excessive chain of handkerchiefs.
“Phew . . . I didn’t realise there were so many in there,” he chuckles. “I’m a little tied up . . . Simeon, my lovely assistant, would you do me a favour and help me unravel this mess?”
“Of course, I’ll just—” He has barely taken his hands off the hat when it bounces away. “Oh, crumbs! Well, I’ll catch it again in a moment. Here, Solomon, I’ll help you.”
You and Luke are laughing so much that your lungs hurt as Simeon grasps one of the handkerchiefs and sends Solomon spinning. He yanks the chain of handkerchiefs towards him again and again, forcing Solomon to rotate faster and faster as he flails, trying to keep balance. Luke has tears of mirth in his eyes. By the time Solomon has been unwound from his brightly coloured bonds, he is apparently dizzy, stumbling and lurching as he walks across the room in search of his hat.
“Which way did it go?” he asks.
“There it is!” Simeon points to the dining room door.
“After it!”
They chase it into the dining room with much shouting, and plenty of stumbling on Solomon’s part. Luke jumps up to close the other door as they chase it back into the living room. Simeon’s legs become tangled in the handkerchiefs littering the ground as he runs through and he ends up hopping after the hat. Finally, he and Solomon corner it behind the television and manage to drag it back to centre stage.
“Gotchya!” Simeon laughs.
“No escaping now!” Solomon grins. “Hold it steady, Simeon!”
“Holding steady!”
Solomon’s hand dives into the hat and after some frantic grappling he stands up with a triumphant laugh, holding a silver wispy wraith of a rabbit.
“A bunny!” Luke cheers.
“I’ve got you! Wow!”
The rabbit wriggles in his grasp and suddenly bursts into a cloud of silver wispy butterflies. They move as a cloud, fluttering up to the ceiling in unison and then diving down and around the room. Finally, they circle towards you and Luke on the couch. A giddy scream escapes you and you hold your arms out. The butterflies swarm around you and Luke in a gentle flurry. You’re surprised that the kisses of their wings are cool against your skin. The gentle weight of their bodies settles in your hair and in the crown of daisies atop your head. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
Solomon tuts loudly, shaking his head at the butterfly wisps.
“So, it was you lot all along. I should have known . . .”
One of the ghostly butterflies settles on the daisy between your fingers and you watch its wispy wings open and close. The pink and yellow lights of the room shimmer through its translucent body.
“Waaaaaahhh they’re so pretty!” Luke says.
Solomon nods.
“They’re very pretty, but they’re cheeky. Come on you lot,” he commands, clicking his fingers.
As one, the butterflies take flight again and swirl into the air above Solomon. You and Luke watch on in awe as they form patterns in the air, breaking off into groups and then merging back together in seamless synchronicity. The glowing light of their small bodies brightens until they are consumed by it. You shield your eyes and Luke turns his face to hide against your shoulder with a squeal.
“Wow!” Simeon laughs.
You peek between your fingers, squinting into the light as it fades. The many butterflies have fused to form a single giant butterfly, as big as Solomon’s head including the hat he has once again placed on his head. You lower your hands and stare in wonder as it beats its wings to stay in place.
“That’s better. Now, do a flip,” Solomon instructs, clapping his hands twice.
Obediently, the wispy butterfly tilts itself backwards with a strong beat of its wings and executes an aerial backflip. It bobs in place after it rights itself and you and Luke reward it with applause.
“For our next trick, our fluttery friend will fly through a series of hoops. Simeon, are you ready?”
The angel smiles sweetly and nods, holding up the two large hula-hoops he had brought in at the start of the act. He knocks the two hula-hoops together and they light up, consumed by an eerie white flame. From your seat, you feel the warmth of the strange fire transferring to your skin. Your eyes widen, but you are surprised to find that your body does not have the reaction you anticipated—your heartrate doesn’t raise with anxiety at the idea fire indoors and close-by. Instead, your body is awash with a strange sense of calm. It reminds you of sleeping in the sanctuary of Simeon’s wings, tucked against his chest. Looking to the angel’s face, you can see that his eyes are alight with the same white glow that emanates from the flames. Your lips part in gentle awe.
“Wow!” Luke clutching at his hat. “Simeon, I’ve never seen you create Celestial fire before!”
Those words confirm your suspicion. The white flames do not burn Simeon’s hands as he holds the hoops up. The wispy wraith of a butterfly dives through one of the rings before looping back over it and through it once more, mirroring the pattern on Simeon’s other side. Solomon sweeps his arms towards Simeon and the butterfly, prompting further applause from you and Luke.
“And now, for the grand finale! Ready when you are, Simeon.”
“Right, here it goes . . . Hup!”
Luke clutches your arm as Simeon sends both of the hoops arcing towards the ceiling, still aflame. Solomon claps his hands once, summoning the butterfly towards him. As the fiery rings peak, they give the illusion of suspending themselves in mid-air for a split-second before they begin their descent. The butterfly races up to meet them with perfect timing, wings spreading wide as it passes through both rings. You gasp, squeezing Luke in return as the scene unfolds.
It’s like a firework, but at a more appropriate volume for the Purgatory Hall common room. There is a burst of both sound and light as the butterfly and the two flaming rings collide, then what sounds like a fizzle. You shield your eyes momentarily, then squint through the bright haze at it dims. You are awestruck all over again.
The lamps have gone out. The common room is lit from above by the twinkle of stars. You cannot see the ceiling through the illusion of an endless night sky, dotted with unfamiliar constellations and distant galaxies. Stardust falls silently into the common room for a few moments in the aftermath of the creation of this little universe.
It’s beautiful.
“It looks just like the sky in the Celestial Realm!” Luke cries out, his eyes brimming with tears. “I can see all of our constellations!”
Simeon gives a thoughtful hum as he settles on the opposite side of Luke and wraps an arm around the little angel.
“Are you homesick, little one?”
“Huh? N-no! . . . Maybe just a little . . . Hey, wait, I’m not little!”
Solomon takes the seat on the opposite side of you. Beneath the twinkling lights, the four of you recline on the couch and look up.
“How did we do?” Solomon asks quietly while Luke chastises Simeon.
You turn your face to the sorcerer with a wide smile.
“I can’t remember ever smiling this much,” you tell him. “I loved the magic show. You two really outdid yourselves.”
You shoot a smile towards Simeon as you speak. He winks at you over Luke’s head.
The rest of the evening is spent there in the common room, the angels showing you the Celestial constellations and telling you their stories. It feels good—four exchange students in hell, chattering and laughing beneath the illusion of heaven’s sky.
When Luke becomes drowsy, Solomon and Simeon sneak off to change out of their white suits and return in their pyjamas, dragging camping mattresses behind them. You and Luke help them set up a nest of cushions and pillows and blankets atop the mattresses, and then it is time to get comfortable. Solomon makes sure your daisy crown is safely out of the way and promises it won’t wilt with the spell he has placed on it. You can’t say why, but knowing that the small floral token won’t waste away makes you so happy that you shed tears. You’re going to hold onto those daisies forever.
Luke falls asleep with his arms around your middle and his head on your tummy while you stroke his head. Simeon helps you lay back and get comfortable without disturbing him. His arm lingers around you a little longer than necessary. You wish he didn’t have to pull away.
You watch the stars with Simeon and Solomon, the three of you laying back with your arms crossed behind your heads.
“Hey . . .” you start quietly, after the conversation dies down. “I want to thank you two properly for what you’re doing for me this week. Thank you for letting me stay here with you. And thank you for tonight. You’re taking care of me and it really helps.”
“No need to thank us. I for one am glad to be able to lend a hand to my fellow human,” Solomon smiles. “I’m here any time you need me, kay?”
You tilt your head so that it rests on his shoulder for a moment—a small token of affection without disturbing Luke.
“And you are welcome to stay with us here any time you want or need,” Simeon adds.
You feel the warmth of his hand covering yours and shift your head again to meet his gaze. You weren’t expecting him to be as close as he is. Your cheeks prickle with warmth, eyes darting to the lips you kissed earlier in the week. You wish you could kiss him again now, but you know it wouldn’t be fair on him. You settle for a smile.
“Your Celestial fire was beautiful,” you say instead. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
His soft laughter fills your heart.
“It’s not typically used for show, but I wanted to make an exception to make tonight special for you,” he says.
“It was really special,” you whisper.
“Then I am glad.” He presses a light kiss to your temple, leaving your heart racing in a pleasant way. “I hope the happiness it brought you tonight has been healing, little lamb.”
“It was,” you assure him.
Solomon finds your other hand and slides his fingers around yours. You look up at the starry illusion overhead squeezing both of their fingers each time they squeeze yours. A small smile remains on your lips as you doze off. At least for tonight, while you are with them, you know you will be watched over and kept safe.
You are thankful.