In The Arms of an Angel - 8. Chapter 8 - Why Are You Doing This To Me

“When did you become a man?” Lukas demanded, when they were all seated in the living room.

Anna had found the angel some clothes, after throwing a fit about finding that a naked man had replaced the naked angel. Apparently, naked angels were fine but naked men weren’t. Pasha was confused but he couldn’t deny it was a relief to get the angel covered up.

In a pair of Luka’s old joggers, cinched tightly at the waist, and a shapeless sweater, the angel looked…. Well, he still looked like an angel. Somehow, the shabby clothing merely made his beauty shine even more brightly and as for his hair….

He curled up even tighter in the old armchair in the corner, facing the window and shook his head. “I… I just…. The wings were getting in the way and I…. He....” He nodded towards Pasha. He wanted…but he didn’t. I was confused and then….. Then the men came and I was scared. I was so…. I was…so scared..” He started to rock, hugging his knees tightly, and hiding his face. Pasha wanted to go to him, to hold him and….

Suddenly, the angel sat bolt upright and stared at Pasha. For a moment, the world flicked out and all Pasha was aware of was hands, touching him, stroking him, making him….”Stop.”

The angel gasped and collapsed, hugging his knees even tighter and moaning, as if in pain.

“I told you to stop it,” Pasha yelled at him and the angel cringed back.

“I…I didn’t. I didn’t do anything. You…. You made me…. You did it. You.” He buried his face, sobbing and Pasha suddenly wanted to…. No, he wanted to pound him, to tell him he didn’t desire him and would never desire him and to demand he stopped doing whatever it was he was doing to make him desire him. But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. He simply turned and walked away.

In the kitchen, he paced, striding back and forth, blazingly angry. How dare he do that? How dare he make that happen in front of his family. He was oblivious to what was going on in the other room, until Anna burst in on him.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“That little scene in there.”

“What...? I…”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m not that bothered, as long as it doesn’t put us into any danger but whatever happened just now hurt him.”

“Hurt him? What do you mean?”

“See for yourself.” She took Pasha’s hand and led him back into the living room where Lukas was kneeling on the floor next to the angel, who was curled up, making strange little keening sounds. Lukas was patting him gingerly on the shoulder but seemed to be lost as to what else to do.

“What the fuck?” Without another thought entering his head, Pasha strode across the floor and dropped down next to the angel. He put one hand on the angel’s shoulder and winced, as pain lanced up his arm. He ignored it and crooned. “Hey… Hey, what’s wrong. Ssh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He had no idea what to say but had a strong feeling that it really didn’t matter. It was the sound of his voice that would calm the angel, not what words it was forming.

At his first touch, the angel fell silent and slowly turned his head to look up at Pasha. He looked totally dazed and confused. “Why?” was all he said and it was Pasha’s turn to be confused.

“Why what?”

“Why did you do that to me?” There was no condemnation in the shaking voice, only confusion.

“Do what? I didn’t do anything to you. You….”

“No,” the angel said forcefully. “Why do you keep saying it’s me? It’s not me. It’s you. You’re doing it and you hurt me.”

“I told you it isn’t me,” Pasha snapped, overcome with embarrassment and anger. There was no way he was going to talk about the angel’s stupid insistence that he desired him in front of Lukas and Anna. “Just shut up. Shut up and…and keep away from me.”

As his voice rose, the angel’s face crumpled into an expression of pain, and the keening sound started again.

“Stop it,” Pasha hissed. “Just stop it.” The sound was giving him a terrible headache, blinding pain stabbing into his skull. “Stop it,” he yelled and shook the angel roughly by the shoulder. “Stop it. Stop it.” The more he yelled, the more the angel keened, peal after peal of pain distilled into sound.

“Pasha,” Anna, said, putting her hand on his arm, “maybe you should….”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Almost blinded by the pain, Pasha shook the angel like a rag doll. His head snapped back and struck the edge of the fireplace. As the angel’s eyes fluttered and rolled back the pain winked out and Pasha dropped him, skittering backwards. He sat on the floor his eyes wide and his arms clamped around his knees.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. What have I done? What have I done?”

“Calm down, Pasha,” Anna said, putting her arm around his shoulders. “Listen to me. Listen.”

Tearing his eyes away from the unconscious angel Pasha looked up into Anna’s large, calm eyes.

“I’m not pretending to understand, but it seems to me as if you and the angel have some kind of connection, okay? When you feel strong emotion it affects him in one way or another. Does it do the same with you. Do you feel things when he does?”

“K…kind of.”

“Okay, well we need to keep calm then, okay. We need to keep a lid on the strong emotions until we work out what’s happening.” Wordlessly, Pasha nodded. “Right, back away. Keep back and keep calm okay?”

“I…I’ll try.”

“Anna,” Luka said softly. He’d been kneeling over the angel and he looked at them over his shoulder. I don’t think he’s breathing.”