At Uriel's frigid tone, Pestilence lost all command of the English language. How could this angel be the same one that had ellicited such feelings in him? Perhaps Uriel had been right in their previous encounter. Perhaps he had imagined the whole thing; maybe he had seen Uriel around the manor, and the memory had woven itself into some drug-induced hallucination. It wouldn't have been the first time that the lines between reality and fantasy had blurred in the horseman's mind.
As tempting to beleive as that was, Pestilence knew it wasn't the case, and that no amount of drugs or self-delusion would leave him feeling like this.
"I'm glad to see you're alive. I was worried." He couldn't meet Uriel's eyes. What could he do? He was at a loss with emotions. Give him a cell, a pathogen, a liver- the parts; he could handle the parts. But the wholes? He was no good at those.
"Uriel, Its hard to know what to say. When I think about you, it feels as though... as though I am experiencing supraventricular tachycardia, and the ventricles of my heart are completely ignoring the impulses from my brain. But my brain isn't doing any better cause its speeding around like a meth-addict's. My stomach flips around like an H. Pylori victim right after a five course meal. But whats worse, is the thought that each time I see you will be the last. I'm in a bad way, angel. I wish I could forget about the other night like you have. I wish that I could simply pretend it hadn't happened and go about my business. But I can't even start an epidemic of stomach flu, or enourage a more virulent common cold."
"Uriel, I don't know what to do. Part of me thinks that if you just got to know me, you might not be completely disgusted. Its a fool's wish, true, but what does your Good Book say? That the greatest virtue is Hope? Well, that virtue may just may be the death of me."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-03-08 09:29 pm (UTC)As tempting to beleive as that was, Pestilence knew it wasn't the case, and that no amount of drugs or self-delusion would leave him feeling like this.
"I'm glad to see you're alive. I was worried." He couldn't meet Uriel's eyes. What could he do? He was at a loss with emotions. Give him a cell, a pathogen, a liver- the parts; he could handle the parts. But the wholes? He was no good at those.
"Uriel, Its hard to know what to say. When I think about you, it feels as though... as though I am experiencing supraventricular tachycardia, and the ventricles of my heart are completely ignoring the impulses from my brain. But my brain isn't doing any better cause its speeding around like a meth-addict's. My stomach flips around like an H. Pylori victim right after a five course meal. But whats worse, is the thought that each time I see you will be the last. I'm in a bad way, angel. I wish I could forget about the other night like you have. I wish that I could simply pretend it hadn't happened and go about my business. But I can't even start an epidemic of stomach flu, or enourage a more virulent common cold."
"Uriel, I don't know what to do. Part of me thinks that if you just got to know me, you might not be completely disgusted. Its a fool's wish, true, but what does your Good Book say? That the greatest virtue is Hope? Well, that virtue may just may be the death of me."