Caprice disturbed him.
Wherever Fallen walked, people’s auras were dark and hungry. He overheard the conversations of women trying to pick up men, men trying to pick up women. He saw in the other room men and women entwined in embraces, or some talking and feeling each other up.
He was uncomfortable here, for a reason he couldn’t put his finger on. It was something in his past, something he couldn’t remember quite clearly, like a fuzzy, foggy dream, barely on the edge of his consciousness.
Fallen stood alone, a full drink in his hand, as if he didn’t know what to do with it, but got it to look like the rest of the people there. He did not want to look out of place. But yet, he felt out of place, and he probably projected it.
A young man came up to him, a can of soda in his hand. This young man’s aura was not dark and hungry like the rest; it was light. Not quite as light as the angels, but lighter than most people here. Fallen focused on the young man, when he spoke, looking at his green eyes that reflected his shirt.
“Hi,” said the young man, his voice hitching. “You’re new here.”
“Yes,” Fallen said, looking the young man over. Fallen did not smile.
The young man gulped his soda. “Oh, well, um, okay.” He started to walk away.
Fallen realized he scared the young man. “Please, do not leave.”
The young man stopped. “You sure?”
“This place, I do not understand it.”
“Heroes come here to fight, or get picked up for liaisons.”
“I can tell this,” he said, looking across the room at a couple who were kissing each other intently. He looked again at the young man. “What is your name?”
“Kelvin,” he said.
And then, it came rushing back.
His name was Kenaniah, who lived in Sodom. He knew Fallen’s name, a name he could not remember, a name he could not utter, and he called Fallen by it, in a gentle whisper after love, in a distant call of joy, in a desperate cry for help. Fallen tried to answer the last, but the fire was too great that even he could not penetrate, the fire that was the Wrath of God. Fallen saw Kenaniah before him, and his heart broke – just one of many lovers he had, among angels and men, and his heart broke for each one of them.
“Kenaniah,” he whispered, reaching for Kelvin. He didn’t realize he was on the dirty floor of Caprice, that he reached for Kelvin who was just above him. His hand found the back of Kelvin’s neck, and he drew him in, a kiss, an angel’s kiss, unlike any of a mortal, a kiss of joy and love and blindness.
He came to himself after a time, his hand entwined in Kelvin’s hair, and the young man breathlessly staring at his eyes. “I–”
“Kiss me again,” said Kelvin.
The fallen angel obliged.