"Answer me in one word." William Shakespeare, As You Like It, 3.2
Chapter 9. A Question of Truth
It's one of those bright Sunday mornings when she wakes up alone and decides it's not such a bad thing – sometimes, she thinks it better that he never stays after.
She still goes to church – she finds, after a while, she has to, regardless of the hypocrisy – and she finds comfort in silent prayers, in the request for forgiveness, in the hope that she is doing His will, even if she's not quite sure of it herself.
If anything, she's doing her will – fulfilling her own desires, carnal or otherwise – but part of her doesn't want to believe that giving herself to Mykael, in any way shape or form, could be anyone's will, especially not His.
She's sitting at the coffee shop just a few blocks from her apartment, stirring the coffee absently, her eyes buried in the book she's basing her thesis on – its pages old, worn and almost a dry, muddy color.
She's about to turn the page when something moves across from her and her eyes dart toward that general direction, curious, when her blood freezes for a second before she feels it rush to her face and burn.
"Mykael." She lets his name roll from her lips like an insult and it evokes a smile from him, which she doesn't return.
"Really, Hope, I still find your flawless pronunciation of my name truly erotic. Very few Americans do it as well as you," he motions to the waiter, who's busy enough but immediately sees Mykael and, as if under a spell, is already on her way. Allison closes her book, reaching for her bag on an empty chair next to her – the table has four – and when she makes her intention to stand and leave plainly clear, his words stop her, "I'm here to talk about Lucifer."
If the waitress heard him say the name, she doesn't show any signs of it, accepting his order of black coffee right after the devil's name was uttered with little care.
Allison settles on the chair, leaning back, unsure if she should stay and hear what this man has to say or if she should just use reason and go – John can take care of himself, can't he?
His smile, however, doesn't do anything to dispel the knots in her stomach.
She stays.
"I see you've kept him...busy." She doesn't think to even dignify that with a reply; considering he has visual evidence of his statement, his words come to no surprise. "It's very...touching."
Her eyes narrow. He's mocking her. He looks like he wants to laugh at her, at them both, and something inside of her isn't taking that well.
"What do you want with him?" She cuts to the chase, not wanting to play these kind of games – with John at the center – with him, of all people.
"It's not what I want from him, dear one," the way his lip curls makes her want to throw up – the very essence of this man is malice; dark and filled with a stench that you can't pick up by ordinary means. "It's what you want from him." He leans forward, elbows on the table, but he has to pause when the waitress brings him his cup, saying thank you before he brings the cup to his lips – making Allison wait – before it touches its plate.
"Do you truly think you'll be enough for him? I mean, truly," he leans back, a soft chuckle shaking his chest, "did you think the world would end and, somehow, he would follow you to heaven? Don't you know what he is?"
Her heart drums against her chest and she wants to answer – she's going to – but he's quicker than her, or maybe she's not trying enough.
"Lets say you win and I fail. Lets say the world does not end, that I do not succeed in my plans to make earth my very own playground." Her eyes widen at that idea, "Do you think you and him have a life? A future? Perhaps children? I've always wanted a stepsister." A shudder ripples through Allison as she realizes his smile is more than just longing for a sibling – it's the wrong kind of longing.
"You're not J-" She almost says his name, but she knows Mykael won't recognize it – he'll probably mock John for it. "Lucifer is not your father."
"Not in the biblical sense," he uses the term mockingly, as if it were like burning pages from the Bible for fun. "But I was birthed by the very idea of him, his very essence. That fear that paralyzes you, the very thing that burns you and makes you want to run screaming from my presence, the very thing that you're burying deep inside as we speak...you're as attracted to me as you are to him."
Allison's throat is dry. She shakes her head. It's not true, she knows. Mykael disgusts her. Being around him makes every part of her body tense and she does not feel right. Then again, the first time she and John...she threw up the morning after. And John, even in the most pleasurable of moments, terrifies her.
"You won't have me." She tells this to herself more than she does him, her teeth grinding painfully.
"And why not? Because he does?" He takes another slow sip of his coffee before setting it down with a sigh, "Possession...it can be easily exorcised." He touches a finger to his lip, thoughtful, "Tell you what, answer me this, in one word, and perhaps I'll concede this battle. The battle," he emphasizes, "not the war."
She swallows, reminding herself about what they say about deals with devils and whatnot, but she gives him a slight nod regardless.
He smiles, "If Lucifer was man, just an ordinary man, with questionable moral values and lacking a compassionate heart, would you still be as drawn to him as you are now, when you know him as what he is? Would you want the man just as you want the soulless angel?"
She's about to argue that John is not a soulless being but even she isn't sure if she hasn't been seeing only what she wants to see.
John is not good. He's not saving lives or trying to save the world because he's good. He's not bedding her and keeping her company because he's good. In fact, nothing that John has done points him as good and, yet, she believes...she hopes...that he can be.
She inhales, needing all she can to answer him one word, "Yes."
He quirks a brow, meeting the cup with his lips again, taking a longer sip as he takes the time to think his reply through. His is just as brief as hers, "Interesting."
And it's not until after he's gone, leaving behind a bill big enough to cover his bill and hers – and a generous tip for the waitress – that she realizes she hadn't been breathing right.
She replays his question in her head – albeit unwillingly – and recalls her answer.
Mykael had asked her to answer him in one word...but he didn't ask her to say the truth.
Semantics, but it still stood.
Not all questions are answered with a truth.