A/N: fourth entry for the OQ prompt party, Thursday.
36. Robin spills a drink on Regina.
119. A walk in the woods/on the beach.
I want to thank everyone who has left those mind-blowing reviews! You guys rock! I love how excited you are and it is a great help.
Oh and I wanted to say, if anyone has tumblr, and you go on my dash, I have tagged several things with #aboutfallen, they're like pics or quotes that fit the story. Now here's the chapter, I hope you'll like it: it has a fave scene of mine ;)
On Monday, she can't find in herself to be upset about the steaming mug awaiting on her desk. However, he avoids her, just as she thought he would. Why would he want to befriend one of her kind, after all?
She is grateful for the space he gives her, she is. That she keeps repeating in her mind, replaying it like a broken record. She has never treated him with kindness, not once, so she guesses he's finally understood her cue and decided to leave her to mess with the universe in peace.
On Wednesday, Regina slowly climbs off her car and starts going towards her office. She has free hours, today, one of her classes is in a school trip to the nearest museum, so she will use her hours wisely and actually go through her paperwork. Yes. Instead of focusing on what Mother wants – what Lucifer wants, to be honest – instead of thinking about her next sins.
The halls are unusually quiet, less people around, so she manages to walk tiredly without a single soul stopping her with useless questions. One step and then another, and she is so tired. Of everything. Her sister got it right, at their last dinner. This life doesn't suit her anymore, perhaps. Right now, she just wants to go flying for a while, because there is going to be a storm soon, and that is the best moment to fly. Yes, she decides, she will. As soon as the school's over today, she'll put on a swimsuit and she'll go to swim in the ocean, and then when she'll be far away from humanity she will splay her wings.
Her mind is still lulling the thought, lost in a pleasant fantasy, when a lot of things happen at once. First, she realizes she's just walked past her office. Second, she collides with a taller, larger body. Third, a whiff of sun and lavender reaches her nostrils. And fourth, a hot, incredibly scorching pain on her skin.
"What the hell?" she hisses, taking a step back from the moron who's just spilled the entire content of a mug on her ivory blouse.
"Regina?"
Oh fuck. Of course.
It's him. Annoying and idiotic enough not to look where he's going, of course it's him. She lifts her head, eyes narrowing. "Good morning to you too," she says, sarcastic. "You know that's not what people mean when they say let's get a coffee together, right?"
"Shit, Regina, I'm so sorry," he tells her, those blue eyes so full of shame that she has to look away. She bobs her head down to look at her shirt, now ruined.
"What on earth were you doing with that here, by the way?" she asks, ignoring his apologies. "Your office is on the other side of the school. Don't they teach you how to read a map, in How to Be an Angel 101?"
He bites his lower lip. "I was bringing it to you, actually," he tells her. Oh.
"I – I guess I needed an excuse to talk…"
"I am done talking, at the moment," she cuts. "So, thank you so much for the coffee, and for the two hundred dollars you've just painted with coffee, but – " she shakes her head, still avoiding his gaze, "I have work to do. See you."
.:.
Robin leaves her be for the day. He pours his soul (well, the equivalent for angels) into making the world a better place. Spends some time in the library, during his free hours, replaces books and more books into their rightful shelves, and helps one of his students with homework.
It's Physics, he realizes. Regina has really outdone herself, in her efforts to be as pesky at possible with the kids. The student – Roland, he's called, curly hair and a wide smile despite his difficulties with homework – is practically pining on that sheet of paper since one hour, he tells him.
"It's just too hard, sir," he says, chewing the top of his pencil. "Miss Mills said she's going to explain us everything, but only after we're done with homework."
"What?" Robin rises his eyebrows, in disbelief. "Oh, okay… I guess I should have expected it," he mutters. "Look, I'll try to tell you how it works. But it's a secret, okay?"
Roland nods eagerly, and Robin thinks that two can play this game. From now on, he will search for every single bad action of Regina's and he will turn it into a smile, or a grateful look. Watch me now, he thinks, as he slides Roland's book closer and takes one of his still-not-chewed pencils.
When he's done going through his homework, Roland thanks him, seeming in higher spirits, so Robin exits the library, takes the long corridor and walks beyond her office. He resists the temptation of going in and ask for explanations. Isn't it what his kind does best? Resisting temptations? And as for explanations… she's a devil. She doesn't owe him explanations, not when he knows exactly why she's doing this.
But anyone can be saved, he muses. Even though the gods say that no, the fallen ones are unforgivable, he believes they can be saved. The Word says redemption is a possibility for everyone. And he doesn't think it's just about humans either.
.:.
The evening is, perhaps, her favorite time of the day. Since she's on Earth, evenings have been quiet and transitional to a new night. The wonderful fascination she has with stars and everything of the sky, with science and knowledge, it has only fueled during the years, as mankind discovers more and more, Astaroth thrives. Her friend Mephistopheles has always understood her.
She has fallen, as Regina did, because they promised her endless knowledge, and told her that heaven was not the answer. Told her the real world was down there, were the angels, they said, could live with men and mingle, and could steal from them their wit, their fires and their ideas.
They've both been fooled, Regina thinks, as she laces her black bikini on her back. At least, Mephistopheles went in willingly. At least they didn't push her, she tells herself, at least she choose to go. Maybe she's happy.
She hasn't seen her in a very long time, and she should rectify that.
Regina dresses herself and exits in the dusk, a shiver of excitement making her fingers quiver. This is such a perfect evening to fly. She starts the engine of the car and takes the road, down to the outskirts of town, and again ahead, to the sea. She pulls over just at the end of the street. There is a beach – she will stroll down there and down the jetty, leave her clothes there and finally splash into deep water.
Perfect.
A little less perfect, when she spots the man currently sitting on the rocks.
Her groan is loud, and he immediately turns. "Oh heavens, you again?" he groans in response. It looks like he's annoyed. Quite weird: he's always been the perfect gentleman, and this tone doesn't fare well with his usual demeanor.
"Well, sorry," she says, a little thrown back. Then, murmurs vehemently, "I can always find another beach to stroll on, never mind," even if she knows all too well this is the only one within the range of miles. Just then her gaze falls on what is surrounding him – a booklet, and a notebook, with a small box of pencils. "What are you even doing here?"
He watches her for a long moment, then answers. "Drawing. Writing. Stuff."
"O-kay," she lets out in two syllables. Her hands raise as she is surrendering. "Don't mind me, I'm just… I'll get going and leave you to your stuff."
Her hair wipes up with the wind – it's gotten angry, in the last minutes. She needs to hurry if she wants to catch the start of the storm. Her feet sink in the humid sand, and she draws a deep breath as she walks away from him.
"Regina," comes his voice – obviously. "Wait!"
She stops on her tracks, lets him the time to push his notebooks into a small backpack and join her. He plunges his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts. "Sorry for earlier, that was rude of me," he tells her. "Are you… alright?"
"Yes, don't worry," she waves her hand. She'd normally be much angrier with him, but the excitement about her activities is just making his idiocy fade. "Do you come… often on this beach? Doing stuff?"
"It's one of my favorite spots, actually," he confesses. "You?"
She shrugs, throws a side glance at him. Can she trust him? Flying is… not exactly forbidden, but frowned upon, and if he reports to someone…
"I wanted to… watch the storm," she says after a while. "From the jetty."
He hums, as if he's thinking. "That sounds… very reasonable. And there's any particular reason you have your bikini on?"
Regina turns, stopping, faces him. "What?"
He doesn't answer, but draws up a hand and shifts her hair to the side, reveals the lace of her bra, knotted in a bow just behind her neck. She feels herself blush, as if she's been caught with her hands in the jam. "I, actually, wanted to swim a little," she says. Her ears are burning, her heart thumps as she spills the truth. "And… fly. Just for some time. They won't see me with the storm –"
"I know," he says, tranquil, and shrugs to her puzzled face. "Mind if I join you?"
She raises an eyebrow, as if she expects a trap in there somewhere.
"Regina, you're not the only one who breaks a little rule every now and then," he winks. "Come on. Shall we?"
She's still stunned, but nods, follows him dumbly. He walks towards the jetty, then stops when he reaches it, and places his backpack on the sand, protected by a pillar. He starts unbuttoning his shirt, and motions at her. "Are you coming or not?"
Regina shakes her head, tells him Yes, of course, and reaches for her dress, pulls it up in one single motion. She's in her bikini before he's even off with his shirt, and she doesn't miss his eyes roam appreciatively on her body, but her gaze goes on the horizon. The clouds have gathered now, black and blue and violet, it really is the perfect storm. The sea is rippled, the air crisp on her skin. Robin reveals his boxers, and now her eyes skim on his chest and toned muscles. He takes her dress from her hands, folds it and packs it in the backpack with his own clothes.
"Thanks," she murmurs.
He nods in acknowledgement, and turns, taking the few steps to climb up the jetty. They walk along it, feet resounding on the wooden tiles. She thinks that if someone was to see them, right now, they'd look like two deities themselves – gods of the sea, maybe, or merpeople, going back to where they belong.
At some point – they may have reached half of their path – he takes her hand. Regina tries not to think much of it. They're not in public, it's not like he's kissing her under the mistletoe, but she curls her fingers around his hand anyway. It's warm, and it's… nice.
.:.
A devil in a black bikini is, quite possibly, the sexiest thing he's ever seen.
Regina's hair flies around with the wind, when they reach the end of the corridor on the sea, and she slips a hair tie out of her wrist to collect everything into a tidy ponytail. She watches the sea – he knows, if she were human she'd be shivering with cold, but doesn't mind in the slightest, apparently.
"Wanna go first?" she asks, motioning at the water.
"Ladies first," he offers.
She glances at him, and nods. It's weird – to be here with her, because she's still distrustful of him but she has trusted him enough to tell him what she was doing. As she turns towards the sea, Robin sees her tattoo for the first time. It's a star just under her shoulder blade, black. He wonders, but he stays silent. Regina looks back at him one last time, and then she jumps in head first. He watches her swim for a moment, then joins her in.
The water is cold – that was quite obvious – but pleasant, refreshing. He missed it. With some strokes, he almost reaches Regina – she's gotten far, and still swimming. It has started to rain, so little droplets splash on his face when he lifts it to search for his companion.
"Regina!" he calls. "Wait!" She stops, her wet hair sticking to her neck as she slowly turns. Floats next to him. "We're far enough, I think it's okay now."
She nods. "Now, it's your turn to go first," she says. "Show me that pretty angelic shape, come on."
He raises an eyebrow. So she's daring him. Interesting, he thinks. He submerges himself slowly, taking a deep breath before plunging down. Here it goes, he thinks. Freeing his wings is always wonderful, but doing so underwater is even more wonderful. He raises his hands, gives two rapid kicks with his feet, and breaks the surface of the water in a single movement. He splays his wings, the light of white and light blue sounds like home. Regina is still there, in the water, as he flaps them slowly above her, sea water cascading down with the water from the sky. She has a curious expression, one that he can't read. Longing? She's nostalgic? Disgusted?
Now he yells, over the winds, Are you coming? and she nods back, giving him one last glance before going down. He waits, and waits, starts thinking she's drowned.
And then, a missile in the shape of a devil sprays out from the sea, she splays her wings too, suspended in front of him.
And she's breathtaking.
Black wings, veined of violet and red, her skin a perfect ensemble of dark veining too, her eyes ablaze, she is terrifying. She radiates power, she feels like roses and sea, like an avenging fury. Robin blinks a couple of times, stunned. She crosses her arms on her chest, her hair has lost its lace and swirls now free.
"Shall we fly, then?"
He has just the time to nod – she smirks, lifts her arms and gives a violent beat upwards.
He can only follow. Right in the storm.