Huxley took a deep breath and held it. He reached deep within himself, thinking about everything that dragged out his fury. About all the trash that was dragging the world down into a dumpster fire, and how he would never fit in anywhere.
…he just wanted to smash all of it.
Pain surged through his right hand, a mystic force tearing at the seams of his skin and twisting his bones. That was Huxley’s Wrath. The source of his power. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but there was nothing he couldn’t break with it. He was ready to fight now.
Hux threw open his front door, his eyes immediately locking onto the back of a young man dressed in traditional angelic robes. High ranking ones too. Shit.
Without hesitation Huxley lunged toward his victim, the pain in his hand multiplying tenfold as he clenched it into a fist.
Stillness exploded throughout the room as the angel’s wings unfurled and their halo shimmered into existence. All the pain in Huxley’s hand and all the fury in his head faded. All of his physical momentum disappeared – leaving him just standing there, calm but disoriented.
“Huxley, it’s okay.” The angel turned to face Huxley, a warm smile on his face. “It’s just me.”
It took a bit for Hux to reorient himself, but as soon as he did, he immediately recognized the angel. It was the archangel of Mercy, and Huxley’s best – and sometimes, only – friend. It was Jun.
“Oh.” A half groan half sigh tumbled out of Huxley’s mouth as he slumped into an old worn-out armchair. “You really need to call first… leave a note… something. These surprise visits are bad for our health…”
A note from the
Yes, Huxley said “our health.”
Jun isn’t as untouchable as he looks.