“Hello, commander.”
Mikha’el smiles, cool, professional. But Helel knows those eyes talk back, irises the color of bleeding sunsets darting to the tributes with so much disdain he could melt them right now.
You look bored by these groupies of yours, they said.
“Hello, Mikha’el.” Helel also smiles, inviting, controlled. And Mikha’el knows those eyes talk right back, irises the color of the sea as seen through a diamond, and how they skimmed over the same tributes with a roll of his eyes.
They are most certainly getting on my nerves, they said.
Mikha’el’s eyes dart back to Helel. A half-lidded gaze wanders up and down his commander’s body and the commander, knowing commander, brushes his robe from his thigh so the barest hint of skin catches those eyes.
Once I kick them out, Mikha’el’s eyes said, and this time, he could not help but bare his teeth in a wretched grin, you are mine.
And all Helel’s said back, a grin just as dark, teeth just as sharp, I had better be.
Before he would let himself relish Helel's expression for much longer, Mikha’el snaps his head to the tributes, making them shrink and step back against his burning divinity. It makes their heads pound and their breaths shallow.
" You know, " he smiles as he begins, " I don't believe my commander has talked to any of you here tonight.”
Mikha’el screens the rest of the party. He projects his voice so every angel could hear it clearly and without question.
" In fact, he has not talked to any of you tonight. I think he’s feeling quite tired, as I am, from all that work. And it is important that my commander and I discuss the next phase of our plans for Paradise.”
Whispers begin to rumble. When was this? Why now? Wasn’t the point of the party to celebrate them both, and how hard they had worked? Many had overheard both Helel and Mikha’el complain about all they had to do; it was too early to stop the best party this realm was about to offer!
Mikha’el persists. He would give them one last chance, knowing they would fail, and wanting to see them do it anyway.