For the NeonClan Weekly Tumblr Contest! AU thingy~
Prompt: "Every human has a guardian angel, who can be summoned by a magic phrase."
c/p prompts: sinners, querulous, baroque, serendipity, scheherazade, pointillism
four elements c/p challenge: angel, noon, summer
Simon Snow was not having a good birthday so far, thank you very much. But apparently some bloody idiots couldn't tell right away from his emphasized frown.
After an extended walk back from the centre of town, he arrived back at the apartment flat that he shared with his girlfriend Agatha. And technically his best friend Penny too, because she definitely spent more time at his place than her own. Apparently her flatmate was crazy.
He flung the door open with a grunt. Why did Agatha force him to go out shopping on his 23rd birthday? His girlfriend should have remembered that shopping was a horrid experience for Simon. Sure, she was sick, but...
Honestly, life would feel a lot better if Simon's damn guardian angel ever showed up like it was supposed to five years ago. Everybody got one when they turned 18, and they could be summoned using a specific word or phrase. Simon still hadn't figured it out, and was considering reciting the damn dictionary if that's what it took. Crowley, if it's one of those long fancy scientific words that sound like gibberish, I'm moving out to live in the forest with all the woodland animals.
"Agatha? I'm back from shopping with the groceries," he called out, confused as to why she hadn't yelled down to greet him like normal.
Probably sleeping... Or ignoring me...
Either way, Simon swiped up a probably-expired vanilla cupcake from the bag and a tattered dictionary off the desk, and headed back outside to sit on the swing in the backyard, inspired for some reason to have another go.
He lounged back and flipped to a random page in the dictionary.
"Um... Baroque." Simon waited for a second, but of course, nothing happened.
"Querulous."
...
"Serendipity."
"Sch-scheherazade?"
"Pointillism."
Flipping to random pages was getting really boring, and he was about to call it quits for the day.
One last word...
"Sin."
There was an obnoxiously loud "poof" noise behind Simon.
"Hello, Snow," a dark translucent figure said with a grimace. Simon whirled around to be greeted with a rather unfriendly face. Aren't guardian angels supposed to be kind and helpful...?
"Are you my guardian angel?"
"No shit, Sherlock. Call me Baz," he said, hesitating before extending a hand.
Simon reluctantly took the bitter angel's hand. It was cold and sweaty. "And you can call me Simon."
"No, I'm calling you Snow."
Humph.
"You're calling me Simon and that's final, okay?"
"Sure, whatever you say, Snow."
He bit down on his lip to stop himself from retorting back angrily. He needed Baz to think well of him. "So, the word to summon you is 'sin' out of all things?"
"Maybe, maybe not. I could have just come when you said the right word a while ago and only chosen to show myself to you right now," Baz said with a wink.
"You little- you little son of a-" Simon was spitting and bloody furious. What a fucking wonderful guardian angel he had, eh?
"Oh look, it's my lunch break now. Seeya later, Snow!"
"HEY! Come back!"
With that, Baz vanished with another "poof", leaving Simon to sit with a scowl on his face, swinging on the swing.