Michael looked after Raphael's retreating figure. Every step of those light feet was crushing the tiny bits that remained of his shattered heart.
That disgust... that utter hatred, despise he had detected in Raphael... it cut into him so deeply that he couldn't even begin to describe the pain of it.
As the other angel disappeared from sight, Michael's gaze wandered back to the tree and the two little angels still sitting next to each other. A hand lashed out, ready to crush the tiny ornaments, to take out at least some of his furstration and fear and sorrow.
However, just as the fist was about to close around the angels, Michael hesitated. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to crush the tiny objects. Even if they had triggered the chain of events that had eventually led to this pain that he now felt, they still represented something to him.
Very, very gently, he picked the one ornament that looked so very much like Raphael, lifting it up to the top of the tree. Gently placing it at the highest pranch, just beside the angel on the top, he then adored the effect the lights had on the tiny angel, picking up all the wonderful details and the coppery highlights of the fiery hair. And there sat the mini-Raphael, looking over everything from its place of look-out.
Then, the blond archangel turned to the one angel that closely resembled him. For a moment he considered utterly destroying it. Then, however, he changed his mind.
A moment later footsteps retreated.
Under the tree, almost hidden by the shadows, lay a little angel ornament, abandoned and uncared for, looking so very lonely and unhappy.
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That disgust... that utter hatred, despise he had detected in Raphael... it cut into him so deeply that he couldn't even begin to describe the pain of it.
As the other angel disappeared from sight, Michael's gaze wandered back to the tree and the two little angels still sitting next to each other. A hand lashed out, ready to crush the tiny ornaments, to take out at least some of his furstration and fear and sorrow.
However, just as the fist was about to close around the angels, Michael hesitated. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to crush the tiny objects. Even if they had triggered the chain of events that had eventually led to this pain that he now felt, they still represented something to him.
Very, very gently, he picked the one ornament that looked so very much like Raphael, lifting it up to the top of the tree. Gently placing it at the highest pranch, just beside the angel on the top, he then adored the effect the lights had on the tiny angel, picking up all the wonderful details and the coppery highlights of the fiery hair. And there sat the mini-Raphael, looking over everything from its place of look-out.
Then, the blond archangel turned to the one angel that closely resembled him. For a moment he considered utterly destroying it. Then, however, he changed his mind.
A moment later footsteps retreated.
Under the tree, almost hidden by the shadows, lay a little angel ornament, abandoned and uncared for, looking so very lonely and unhappy.