OK but who's fault is it really?

Pursuit. Darkness. Someone, something is behind me and I feel its presence as I run through trees, unable to see clearly as twigs snag on me, digging into my skin and drawing blood. The pain claws its way to the front of my mind, sharp and insistent. I try to stay focused but my mind feels far away. The trees jumble together and my vision blurs. Whatever’s behind me crashes through the trees, not attempting to hide its presence as the sound of chaos rapidly catches up to me.

The trees disappear and I’m abruptly left in a clearing, yellow grass tickling the injuries around my ankles. Dizziness overtakes me and I fall to my knees. I can still hear the creature behind me, but I’ve given up on trying. My hands are tangled in the grass and I look up one last time, my eyes slowly closing. I can still hear my assailant behind me, at this point only a few feet away. It registers in my brain but I can’t move, glued in place by some invisible force.

Something moves in the clearing ahead of me, and my heart skips a beat.

“Azzy?” I say softly.

When she sees me, her eyes widen. Within moments she’s in front of me, pulling me into her arms. I close my eyes, slumping into her chest. I can hear the monster behind me, slamming towards me. I feel it’s breath on me for a split second before the earth jolts and wind blows through my hair. The sounds of whatever was chasing me are gone as if they were never there.

“Deodamnatus. I’m so sorry Mia, this is all my fault,” Azazel says, stroking my head.

I open my eyes and pull myself up with her shoulders, energy slowly returning. She wraps her arms around my waist and back, steadying me. The world around me is foggy, the only clarity seeming to be in front of me.

“What do you mean? What happened?” I ask, finally looking her in the face. Her eyes are shining with concern.

“I didn’t think it would affect you like this, I–” she looks away from me, and my head feels fuzzy again.

“What are you talking about, Azzy?” I ask, moving her face to look at me again.

She bites her lip, face flushing. “Since when did you call me–? Actually, it doesn’t matter. Look, I don’t think your head’s in the right place right now, but–”

“Oh my God what happened?” I ask impatiently. She flinches, and I frown. “Oops. I mean oh my gosh?”

Azazel giggles. “It’s okay.”

We stare at each other for a moment, and something moves in my chest. A realization of how physically close we are starts creeping in. We are wrapped around each other, and I can feel the warmth of her body heating up mine. She swallows.

“So, basically, I–well. You know, um…basically, it’s like–” she starts trying to explain, and my mind starts wandering, caring a bit less about whatever she’s avoiding telling me and a bit more about how soft she is.

I kiss her, hand cradling her head and softening the fall as she tumbles backward. Her hands fall delicately on my waist as if asking for permission. She tastes like paprika and I get the thought that I never want to stop kissing her, ever.

That fuzzy feeling in my head comes back, and life starts looking less like reality and more like flashes of consciousness in between bouts of darkness and fog.

The softness of her skin turns into the softness of my bed, and my eyes slowly blink open to reveal the brightness of morning.

I’m smiling softly, but I don’t remember why. Something to do with a beautiful boy that I was hugging? Or something? I squint, partially due to the brightness and partially due to confusion. It may have not been a boy, actually. Who was it?

My eyes widen and I sit up straight in bed, heart beating like I just ran a marathon.

“You’re kidding,” I whisper.

I slide my bonnet off and rub my eyes, flashes of my dream coming back to me, each one more incriminating.

“Maybe I just forget about this,” I reason, “she wasn’t actually there. I can just act like it’s all normal.”

Still, I of all people should know that dreams are a bit more complicated than that. No matter how much I want to convince myself it wasn’t real, part of it might have been. Or maybe it was just my imagination going wild. Which is almost worse…?

I sit frozen in bed, running through every scene of the dream I just had. Never in my life have I called Azazel ‘Azzy’. Although, that wasn’t the only first that arose…

A knock at the door startles me out of my thoughts, but the discomfort remains.

“Come in?” I say.

My mother opens the door and I try to act chill, fighting for my life to avoid her celestial intuition.

“Sweetheart, the protection seal on the roof is tampered with. Did you mess around with it? Perhaps you dabbled in arson again?”

My face heats up. “I’m pretty sure it’s only arson if it’s on purpose, mom.”

She smiles mischievously at me and I roll my eyes.

“But no,” I continue, “I didn’t do anything to the…”

Cogs in my brain tick and I grip my sheets, face flushing with anger.

“Yes?” My mom asks.

“I have to go,” I say, slipping out of bed and rushing past her, booking it for the front door.

“Baby aren’t you gonna get dressed?” She calls after me.

I ignore her, shooting a finger gun at my dad in the kitchen as I dash through.

“Mia, are you going outside like that? It’s-” my dad begins, but I’m already out the door, where it’s pouring rain.

I sigh, feeling the chill soak through my black nightgown as I run barefoot through the street. Thankfully, the anger burning inside me keeps the chill away. As the rain destroys my curls literally the day after I washed them, I start to wonder if this was the best move. Still, it’s too late, so I continue my journey past the residential area of my neighborhood and into the woods.

I sprint through the woods, breath heaving, branches scraping me and twigs getting caught in my hair. My stomach twists as I begin to recall the more nightmarish segment of my dream last night. I know better than to let paranoia get the better of me, I think as I look behind me every couple of seconds. Ah yes, Mia. Very mature.

When I finally burst into a familiar clearing, it’s empty. Of course it is. Azazel fears accountability almost as much as she fears Christian God.

Standing in front of a tree decorated with an intricate rune. I trace the carving, remembering each aspect and how I chose it.

Taking a deep breath, I try to clear my mind. The hardest part, really. Thoughts shoot past me. My dream, my parents, the seal. School, which probably starts in like 15 minutes. It’s senior year, it’s fine. Everyone has senioritis. But I’m an adult now, shouldn’t I be more responsible?

Mia. Focus.

I breathe again, focusing on the rune and the creature it summons. I close my eyes, imagining power flowing in and out of me with each breath. Laying my palm flat against the rune, I speak.

“Attenrobendum eos, ad consiendrum, ad ligandum eos, pariter et solvendum, et ad congregantum eos coram me!”

Wind flutters around me, leaves spinning and settling. Birds tweet in the distance. Not much changes.

I roll my eyes.

“Azazel, get out here,” I command.

Something in the clearing changes. To most, it would be unclear exactly what.

I turn around, where Azazel is standing infinitely close to me. I have to cran my neck to look up at her, and the closeness is almost overwhelming. My face flushes and I involuntarily push her, although it does nothing.

“Holy crap back up,” I say.

All of a sudden she’s six feet away. She’s grinning, posed as if in a 2000s romcom– framed with her elbows like a portrait and poking her cheek with her pointer finger as if to give her an artificial dimple. A red tail peeks out from behind her, flicking rain droplets into the grass.

I stare at her, eyes full of malice. It seems her entire life mission is to make mine worse.

Her eyes trail down, and I’m not sure why, until I follow her gaze and remember that I’m wearing a tiny black nightgown. I try to suppress the blush crawling up my neck.

“And what do you want?” Azazel asks playfully. Her eyes still have not found their way back to mine, still assessing my outfit situation.

“Azazel, what did you do?” I ask.

She tilts her head in mock confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play with me right now. The seal?” I say.

Azazel huffs. “You were a lot friendlier last night…” she mumbles.

I bite my lip, pretending I didn’t hear that.

She finally meets my eyes with hers, displaying a level of sincerity I thought impossible for her.

“Mia. Camila. You know I didn’t mean to break it. I’m just…I’m trying to figure stuff out.” She says softly. How does she even know my full name?

“What stuff?” I ask.

She tilts her head, eyes leveling with me. “Are you serious?”

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Okay, cool,” she says. “So, you might be pretending that nothing happened, but I’m not. Whatever bond we accidentally created last year–”

“Stop.” I say.

Azazel steps toward me, and as she gets closer, my skin prickles. I’m not sure if I want to step forward or back, so I stand still, now forced to look up when I meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry that you are so disturbed, Mia. It’s not like this was my dream situation either. But I am trying to fix it. Which is a lot better than you’re doing. And, sorry, can I get a reminder on who started this whole situation in the first place, miss arsonist?” Azazel asks, dark red wings uncurling from behind her as she rubs her temples. Her tail twitches in aggravation.

I bite my cheeks, fists clenching, but I have nothing to say for several moments.

“Okay but who leaves their ancient demon seal just wherever? For anyone to find?” I retort finally.

“Oh don’t give me that. It was in an abandoned building, through a portal, attached to an ominous glass sigil that you have to light on fire to activate. It’s not my fault you are actually crazy and somehow bypassed all of those things.”

I squeeze my nails into my palm, all of a sudden fighting tears threatening to well. Frustration pulls at my chest and I stay silent, glaring at her with wet eyes.

Her expression softens slightly and she takes a deep breath, wings folding back in slowly.

“Mia, I–it’s okay. It’s fine. It’s not a huge deal that you did that, it’s just–” Azazel pauses, eyes searching mine. She steps forward again, but this time it feels different. Softer.

I avert my eyes from hers, biting my cheeks harder to stay stoic. My crossed arms tighten and I try not to shiver as the wind picks up again.

“Mia.” She says. I flinch. Why does she say my name so often?

Although I’m not looking, I can feel her moving closer. The grass shifts and the warmth she emanates hits me like a furnace. I blush, flashes of my dream returning.

As Azazel stands there, unmoving, I can feel her gaze on me. The concern is familiar, and my chest tightens. Every conflicting feeling threatens to overwhelm me. I hate that she’s looking at me like that, I hate that I messed up so bad, I hate that I want to step closer to her. I hate her and me and everything.

Tears drip down my face and I ask the universe sincerely for it to start raining again to make this less embarrassing for me. The universe does not comply, and I don’t yet know a subtle rain spell, so I just stand there shivering uncontrollably and avoiding eye contact.

I watch Azazel from the corner of my eye. She looks up, biting her lip so hard I’m pretty sure I can see blood. She reaches for slowly, but before she makes contact she freezes. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and then gives me the gentlest touch on the shoulder I’ve ever felt.

Watching Azazel struggle, I feel the edge of my lips creep upward involuntarily. Her awkwardness is a bit endearing.

“Are you okay, Mia?” She asks, hand still placed lightly on my shoulder.

Maybe it’s the concern, or the fact she says my name every time she speaks, but something inside me breaks. I close the gap between us and sink into her.

She flinches.

“Faex,” she curses.

But then, slowly her arms wrap around me with that same tentative gentleness as she has always touched me.

My shoulders shake and I breathe in slowly, trying to calm down. She smells like hot honey and a crackling fire. I wish I could wrap my arms around her neck but she’s too tall so I compromise, wrapping one hand around her waist and the other up her back. Although it’s my first time hugging her in real life, the experience is viscerally familiar and I sigh into the hug, relaxing for the first time in months.

She strokes my hair and I feel so strange. Why is it that the one creature I hate most in the world is the only one who can make me feel okay right now? Why do I feel so safe and secure? Why do I want this so bad?

“Mia, I don’t understand what’s wrong. Why are you so upset?” She mumbles into my hair.

“I…I don’t know.” I say, and it’s true. Even if I did, I’m not sure I want to tell her.

Her grip on me tightens, and for a moment all thoughts leave my head as I close my eyes and sink back into her. The only thing I can think about is how she’s holding me even though I’m sopping wet. She’s getting her clothes wet to comfort me. I feel like I’m going to wake up again any minute, unsure if this could possibly be reality.

The sky opens up again, sleets of rain pouring down onto us. My dress clings to me and I cling to Azazel. The rain stops hitting me, but I can still hear it beating on the ground and now the space around us is filled with nauseating heat.

I look up to see Azazel’s wings covering us, pulsing with warmth. My cheeks flush from the temperature. She’s staring at me silently, lips parted as if she might want to speak, but not yet.

As I look at her, it occurs to me that angels and devils both have wings. Right now, she looks so ethereal…I mean, they did come from the same place after all. I pull away a little, still holding her but now able to look at her better.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I blurt out.

She grins, eyes narrowing. “Oh, I know.”

And then, just like that, I’m left alone in the clearing. The water that’s collected atop her wings all falls down at once on top of me, drenching my nightgown, which was just about to dry.

I stand soaked in the freezing rain, and I can’t help but smile as I notice I'm somehow unable to feel anything but warm.