Michael didn't respond and his silence boomed for the other angel. He looked away and Raphael felt like a carpet had been ripped out from underneath him.

Michael made an effort?

He couldn't help himself and made an involuntary noise of surprise.

"Why?" He managed to say. "Why would you do that?"

take a look at your friends sometime and tell me again that no angels you know make an effort

"I thought the demon was just lying..." He swallowed, feeling nauseous. Michael was an angel among angels... if he wasn't sexless, then nobody was about suspicion.

Suspicion...

I get the feeling that there's a certain male shaped being around who'd like to try it with you...

He grew quieter.

"You kept running your fingers through your hair. You only do that when you're nervous. What are you nervous about Michael?" He asked, his low tone starting to become accusatory.

"And what did you mean by those ornaments, anyway?" He wondered coldly. "I suppose you thought that they ought to be 'making an effort' too?"

His eyes stung and he wondered if this was what betrayal felt like. The one angel whom he assumed would share his sentiments...

And he made an effort.