​Gabriel sighed and sat stiffly on the motel bed. The thing made his skin crawl with the amount of lust and wrath  that radiated from just the sheets beneath him. He could only imagine what he’d feel if he actually touched the bed. The prophet (he had to remind himself that her name was Jamika,  he’d known so many humans that their names often got jumbled in his mind though their faces burned his every hour), after a moment’s hesitation,  settled on the bed next to him. Their shoulders brushed briefly,  and he was treated to a glimpse of her guardian angel sitting cross legged behind her, scowling fiercely at him. The archangel snorted in quiet amusement before fixing Jamika with a somber look. It was time.

“Long before there was such a concept as time, we angels lived harmoniously in heaven with our creator. There are no words for it in your human tongues. If you witnessed but a second of it, you would spend the rest of your days as John the Revelator did: weeping and longing for the day he would see it again,” at this he paused, noting the apprehension and excitement warring for control of his young companion’s face. Bracing himself, Gabriel ran a weary hand through his thick black hair and continued.
“Our days were spent singing praises to the Most High; our song was an ever changing ode to the genuine love we felt for every moment He graced us with His love. And then one day,” again he stopped, but this time it was because his voice broke with emotion. Even after all these billions of years the utter devastation of that time threatened to bring him to his knees, but this time Raphael wouldn’t be there to put the broken pieces of his heart back together. All he has was this lonely prophets and her terrified guardian angel. Were they up to the task he had been sent to see them through? He didn’t know, but when he looked in her brown eyes he saw a strength to rival Michael’s, and that comforted him more than he thought possible.

“And then one day,” he began, smiling when Jamika placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “my brother Lucifer stopped singing. It was strange: no one had ever stopped singing before, but there he stood, silent. 
“I was in female form at the time, and I remember flitting over to him and saying ‘Why have you stopped singing, brother?’ and he looked at me and said, ‘Tell me, sister, does the light of our creator seem dimmer to to you?’ I cast my gaze toward the north and laughed, ‘No. Our Father is simply busy with His current project. He goes to make a creature He calls man so that they will have true fellowship with Him.’” Gabriel shuddered, the remembered look of confusion and then what he later came to learn was rage that came over his elder brother’s stunning face still frightened him. There was a reason he tried to never think of that time. Even speaking of it unbalanced him, and were it not for the grounding calm of Jamika’s slender brown hand on his shoulder,  Gabriel was sure he would have burst into his true form and taken flight, leaving nothing but the burnt husk of a human girl and her distraught guardian behind him.

–To be continued! –

So this is part of a thing I’m writing about a prophet named Jamika and the Archangel Gabriel. There’s no romance between them I promise you lol, but as you can see I’m having a little trouble, so I would greatly appreciate any feedback or suggestions.

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