Much as he would have liked to deny it, Mictain found that Raphael's words stung quite a bit. No, he wasn't Michael. And what about it? It wasn't like he had asked to change. And what change there was had happened because he had wanted to protect Raphael, anyway.
Raphael seemed to be serious about his threat, too. However, Mictain didn't want to leave. It was almost intoxicating to be so close to the healer, to see him, to hear his voice, even if the words were those of coldness and hatred.
So it was Michael he wanted, then? Very well. He could do that.
Closing his eyes briefly in concentration, he erased all marks of his demonic nature. Fangs and claws withdrew, his clothes changed into the ones he'd usually worn as Michael, even his hair turned wavy and lost the crimson streak in it. Very carefully he thought back to being an angel, remembering every line, every hue, every turn and curve and outline of muscle, and modified his current form to change into what it had once been. The changes weren't that big in the end but he wasn't taking any risks, not leaving a single strand of hair unattended, making himself a perfect image of his former self. The only thing he couldn't get back was the angelic aura, which he would have needed to be exactly like Michael, but that was impossible. This was as close as he could get; if it didn't help, he could do nothing.
As he opened his eyes again, looking at Raphael seriously, they were again the heavenly blue colour they had been for over six millennia, not a hint of the bloody red to be seen anywhere.
"I am sorry," he said softly, allowing what little remained of the angel inside him to rise to the surface. "I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just -- I want to see you. Be near you. Make sure you are alright, I guess." He smiled as gently as he could, careful not to let it slip into smirking. "I apologize." The words weren't easy to a demon, he discovered, but his feelings for Raphael -- which, he had to grudgingly admit, were not perhaps purely lust -- helped his tongue to wrap around the difficult word.
"I love you, angel," he said as sincerely as he could, giving Raphael a pleading look. "Please... please don't drive me away. I won't do anything, I won't even say anything if you don't want me to. You'll hardly even notice me. Just let me be near you, and I'll be content."
And, despite his roaring demonic instincts, despite all the lust and need and desire hidden inside him, in his heart -- or what remained of it -- he felt he was telling the truth.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-03-14 09:29 am (UTC)Raphael seemed to be serious about his threat, too. However, Mictain didn't want to leave. It was almost intoxicating to be so close to the healer, to see him, to hear his voice, even if the words were those of coldness and hatred.
So it was Michael he wanted, then? Very well. He could do that.
Closing his eyes briefly in concentration, he erased all marks of his demonic nature. Fangs and claws withdrew, his clothes changed into the ones he'd usually worn as Michael, even his hair turned wavy and lost the crimson streak in it. Very carefully he thought back to being an angel, remembering every line, every hue, every turn and curve and outline of muscle, and modified his current form to change into what it had once been. The changes weren't that big in the end but he wasn't taking any risks, not leaving a single strand of hair unattended, making himself a perfect image of his former self. The only thing he couldn't get back was the angelic aura, which he would have needed to be exactly like Michael, but that was impossible. This was as close as he could get; if it didn't help, he could do nothing.
As he opened his eyes again, looking at Raphael seriously, they were again the heavenly blue colour they had been for over six millennia, not a hint of the bloody red to be seen anywhere.
"I am sorry," he said softly, allowing what little remained of the angel inside him to rise to the surface. "I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just -- I want to see you. Be near you. Make sure you are alright, I guess." He smiled as gently as he could, careful not to let it slip into smirking. "I apologize." The words weren't easy to a demon, he discovered, but his feelings for Raphael -- which, he had to grudgingly admit, were not perhaps purely lust -- helped his tongue to wrap around the difficult word.
"I love you, angel," he said as sincerely as he could, giving Raphael a pleading look. "Please... please don't drive me away. I won't do anything, I won't even say anything if you don't want me to. You'll hardly even notice me. Just let me be near you, and I'll be content."
And, despite his roaring demonic instincts, despite all the lust and need and desire hidden inside him, in his heart -- or what remained of it -- he felt he was telling the truth.