"I do not believe this to be wise."
"You may be correct," he said indifferently, looking to his hands and flexing them. Controlling a physical body was not difficult in the least, but the sensation of movement -hair brushing against a bare arm, the flow and shifting of weight as one walked, the pull of skin and tightening of muscle that came from simple things such as sitting down or making a fist, the itch of fabrics against skin- took momentary adjustment. "As I recall, you were not obligated to accompany me."
She looked down to her bare feet, the color of the manicured nails blending almost see seamlessly into the plush carpeting. Soft. Pleasant. The woman dug her toes further in. "Do not misunderstand. I am not here out of concern for you and neither am I concerned about my welfare. That it... unnecessary. Rather, I fear of the effects our presence will have upon this universe. This has never been attempted before for what is arguably a valid reason."
She rose from the sofa to stand next to the smaller male who was still absorbed in the mechanics of this new form. To an uninformed observer it would look as if the young man were ignoring the woman. This could not be further from the truth. Planet, galaxy nor universe could sever their bond.
"And yet here you are," he pointed out dully, but then again that's how he always sounds. He turned around to his partner, unblinking. "I ask again: Why are you here? If not for my safety, then perhaps it is for a reason similar to mine."
"Curiosity?" A change in inflection. Disgust? Affronted? Was it even intentional? "To watch them is to know them; I need no more. No, I am here because of your lust to meddle in time otherwise left untouched. I will not let you involve yourself."
"Are you threatening me?"
"I assure you, you will be disconnected if information is disclosed." She paused, running a hand through her hair. Another enjoyable sensation. It was becoming simpler to understand why humans desired nothing more than to be touched by others. Once more, running her fingers through like a brush. "Why do you want this? I can think of no other reason than to interact with them." A blank stare was her only response. "You must not..."
Her words betrayed her even voice, one of a concerned colleague. But of what? "What harm will inquiries cause? My own questions, not theirs," he responded to her darkening presence. "I believe you escort me because you do not trust me, that I will begin to sympathize with the humans or that they will enrage me in some fashion leading me to insert myself into their affairs. What makes you so sure?"
She did not have a proper excuse, but she must not remain silent. "Every opportunity risks a weakening of will..."
The young man strolled to the fireplace, observing photos as he passed by. Two photographs side by side, one of himself -the child he was controlling- and one of a much younger boy, by eight years perhaps, who shared the same dark-lashed green eyes and confident smile. Brothers. These must be for school, he acquired. A superfluous annual ritual, but he did not understand most human customs. A small, forgettable music box was placed unopened beside that, painted white with light blue embellishments on the lid and a brass crank below the unassuming rectangle. He gathered from his partner that it belonged to the woman, passed down from grandmother to mother and eventually to daughter, but with two sons the tradition would die with her.
A wedding photo. Two young people with their whole lives ahead of them, a future where joy and happiness would greet them every morning until their final day. The wife looking aside to her relatives as she hopped down the church steps with her husband's hand in hers, her smile, her excitement, contagious. The husband, while more restrained, nevertheless looked as happy as she, gripping her small hand tightly in his as to not lose her in the crowd.
More odd and quixotic human traditions.
"You speak like them already, using a word of their own naivety, birthed from ego. Why do you assume it is I that shall fall under the sway of humanity? Are you exempt from soothe-saying and those who plead for our benevolence?"
"Because it was not I who desired to seek them. I have told you time immeasurable that I do not want counsel... They are for the most part detestable."
"Yet you cannot ignore them." The boy turned to view his partner who seemed to show signs of discomfort, a wrinkle in her brow visible. Was standing for such a period of time making her uncomfortable? Or better yet, was he correct? "Their existence fascinates you, as it does mine. You do not desire to involve yourself directly, but you will be there, two steps behind me, as I investigate. I am not mistaken in my assumption, yes?"
The silence proved him positive.
"There is nothing wrong with this behavior. I am not terribly fond of them either, but to realize their importance... I cannot sit as a bystander any longer and neither can you–"
"We are not the same," she interrupted, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The desire to rest was taxing, but she would not. Not now. Not in front of him.
"If that is what you truly believe. I fail to see the harm in it. Standing here bickering about who is correct and incorrect will not get us closer to solving that maddening question. Shall we begin?" He appeared in front of her and gripped both of her shoulders, steadying her swaying. A sharp nod in acquiescence to himself and he disappeared, leaving the woman alone in the quiet, spacious house, her house, and internally reprimanding herself for losing this battle.
But she was stronger. Her will, her resolve she will display and win, making her colleague see the errors of his ways before he doomed them all.
They would not end up as the angels have.